UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


"  While  he  turned  up  his  eyes  as  if  to  holla  louder,  the  big  bear  give  him  a  dig  with 
her  paw  in  the  seat  of  his  pantaloons,  and  carried  away  drawers  and  all."—  Page  46. 


THE  BIO  BEAR'S 

ADVENTURES  AND  TRAVELS. 


>«3=_r=.  ' "" 
•  Wby ,  Captiug,  we  must  charge  you  three  and  a  quarter  THIS  time."-Po0e  108. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
T.  B.  PETERSON  &   BROTHERS. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S5B,  by 
T.     B.    PETERSON, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  in  i»n4  for  th« 
Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


THE 


BIG  BEAR  OF  ARKANSAS, 


OTHER  SKETCHES, 


ILLUSTRATIVE  OF 


CHARACTERS    AND    INCIDENTS 


SOUTH  AND  SOUTH-WEST. 


EDITED  BY 

WILLIAM  T.^PORTER. 
WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY    DARLEY. 


M  Thia  is  your  charge ;  you  shall  comprehend  all  vagrom  men." 

DOGBERRY. 


T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 
306    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 
CAREY  AND  HART, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 

COLLINS,  PRINTER. 


CONTENTS. 


7HE  BIG  BEAR  OF  ARKANSAS,  ....   PAGE  13 

.By  T.  B.  THORPE,  Esq.  of  Louisiana. 

JONES'S  FIGHT,  -  »:  -  -  .  -82 

A  Story  of  Kentucky — By  an  JHabamian. 

THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT,          •          '  *  •  .  •  •  .  4g 

A  Story  of  Michigan — by  a  JWio-  Yorker. 

THAT  BIG  DOG  FIGHT  AT  MYERS'S,  -  -  -  -54 

A  Story  of  Mississippi— By  a  Mississippian. 

HOW  SIMON  SUGGS    "  RAISED  JACK,"  -  »  .  62 

Jl  Story  of  Oeorgia—By  an  dlabamian. 

SWALLOWING  AN  OYSTER  ALIVE,  -  -  -•  .  -80 

•A  Story  of  Illinois — By  a  Missourian. 

\)[         A  TEXAN  JOKER   "IN  A  TIGHT  PLACE,"          *  -  .  87 

,  Jl  Story  of  that  Ilk— By  an  Editor. 

£      BILLY  WARRIOR'S  COURTSHIP  AND  WEDDING,    -  -  -90 

A  Story  of  the  "Old  JVorth  State"— By  a  County  Court  Lawyer. 
I 

^         A  BULLY  BOAT  AND  A  BRAG  CAPTAIN,  -  -  -  106 

I  A  Story  of  Steamboat  Life  on  the  Mississippi— By  SOL.  SMITH. 

%t 

LETTER  FROM  BILLY  PATTERSON  HIMSELF,         -  -  -      115 

"Who  hit  Billy  Patterson?" 

%5  SWIM  FOR  A  DEER,  •  -  -  -  -118 

M  A  Story  of  Mississippi— By  the  "Turkey  Runner." 

^^       CHUNKEY'S  FIGHT  WITH  THE  PANTHERS,  ...      128 

A  thrilling-  Hunting  Adventure  in  Mississippi. 

A  YANKEE  THAT  COULDN'T  TALK  SPANISH,  -  -  140 

By  JOHJVA.  STUART,  Esq.  of  South  Carolina. 


409247 


Vi  CONTENTS. 

"OLD  SENSE,"  OF  ARKANSAS,  ...  PAGE  143 

By  "  Jf."  of  that  Ilk. 

STOKE  STOUT,  OF  LOUISIANA,     .....      147 
By  Thorpe  and  Patterson,  of  the  "Coneordia  Intelligencer." 

LIFE  AND  MANNERS  IN  ARKANSAS,  ...  154 

By  an  ex-governor  of  a  Cotton-growing  State* 

ANECDOTES  OF  THE  ARKANSAS  BAR,        -  •  •  -      159 

By  a  Backwoods  Lawyer. 

HOSS  ALLEN,  OF  MISSOURI,  -  -  -  -164 

PULLING  TEETH  IN  MISSISSIPPI,  -  -  -  -167 

By  Uncle  Johnny. 

THK  WAT  "LIGE"  SHADDOCK  "SCARED  UP  A  JACK,"  •          175 

COUSIN  SALLY  DILLIAHD,          .....     178 

A  legal  Sketch,  in  the  "Old  Jforth  Suu." 


PBEFACE. 


A  NEW  vein  of  literature,  as  original  as  it  is  inex 
haustible  in  its  source,  has  been  opened  in  this  country 
within  a  very  few  years,  with  the  most  marked  success. 
Up  to  the  period  when  the  publication  of  the  first  Ame 
rican  "  Sporting  Magazine"  was  commenced — at  Bal 
timore,  in  1829 — and  which  was  immediately  followed 
by  the  publication,  in  New  York,  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the 
Times"  there  existed  no  such  class  of  writers  as  have, 
since  that  recent  day,  conferred  signal  honour  on  the 
rising  literature  of  America.  The  New  York  "  Con 
stellation,"  then  edited  by  that  favoured  disciple  of  Mo- 
mus,  the  late  Dr.  Green,  was  the  only  journal  in  the 
country  which  preferred  any  claim  to  popular  favour  on 
the  ground  of  being  expressly  devoted  to  wit  and  hu 
mor — to  the  fun  and  frolic,  the  flash  and  fashion  of  the 
day.  But  the  novel  design  and  scope  of  the  "  Spirit  of 
the  Times"  soon  fixed  attention ;  and  ere  long  it  be 
came  the  nucleus  of  a  new  order  of  literary  talent.  In 
addition  to  correspondents  who  described  with  equal 
felicity  and  power  the  stirring  incidents  of  the  chase 
and  the  turf,  it  enlisted  another  and  still  more  numer 
ous  class,  who  furnished  most  valuable  and  interesting 
reminiscences  of  the  pioneers  of  the  far  West — sketches 
of  thrilling  scenes  and  adventures  in  that  then  compara 

7 


Till  PREFACE. 

lively  unknown  region,  and  the  extraordinary  charac 
ters  occasionally  met  with — their  strange  language  and 
habitudes,  and  the  peculiar  and  sometimes  fearful  cha 
racteristics  of  the  "  squatters"  and  early  settlers.  Many 
of  these  descriptions  were  wrought  up  in  a  masterly 
style  ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  a  generous  feel 
ing  of  emulation  sprung  up  in  the  south  and  south-west, 
prompted  by  the  same  impulses,  until  at  length  the  cor 
respondents  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  comprised  a 
large  majority  of  those  who  have  subsequently  distin 
guished  themselves  in  this  novel  and  original  walk  of 
literature. 

COOPER  and  PAULDING  were  the  first  to  excite  the 
imagination  of  the  world  by  their  inimitable  delinea 
tions  of  the  back-woodsmen,  trappers,  and  boatmen  of 
the  West.  But  the  characters  and  scenes  which  they 
depicted  with  such  marvellous  fidelity  and  effect,  be 
longed  to  an  earlier  period — before  the  genius  of  Ful 
ton  had  covered  the  mighty  rivers  of  the  new  world  in 
the  West  with  a  substitute  for  the  "  broad  horns"  and 
flat  boats,  which  took  the  place  of  the  frail  canoes  of 
the  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  those  "  happy  hunting 
grounds."  The  back-woodsmen  and  the  boatmen  of 
the  era  of"  The  Prarie,"  and  "  Westward  Ho  !"  having 
given  way  to  a  new  generation,  perhaps  quite  as  inter 
esting  and  novel  in  their  characteristics,  have  been,  in 
urn,  succeeded  by  that  hardy  and  indomitable  race, 
rvhose  sons  and  daughters  are  now  enjoying  a  green 
old  age,  surrounded  by  the  evidences  of  the  highest 
civilization,  and  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  those  social, 
moral,  and  intellectual  blessings  engendered  by  an  en- 


PREFACE.  IX 

lightened  public  mind,  a  populous  region,  and  generally 
diffused  wealth  and  prosperity. 

Gradually  retreating  before  the  swarm  of  "  squat 
ters"  and  settlers  in  the  new  states  and  territories  of 
the  West,  the  "  pioneers"  of  a  later  day  have  finally 
established  themselves  in  regions  so  distant  as  rather  to 
overlook  the  Pacific  than  the  acknowledged  boundaries 
of  the  Federal  Union.  But  they  have  left  behind  them, 
on  all  hands,  scores  of  original  characters  to  be  encoun 
tered  nowhere  else  under  the  sun.  Indeed,  several  of 
the  south-western  states  have  been  so  recently  re 
claimed  from  the  wilderness — Mississippi  and  Arkan 
sas  particularly — that  no  one  acquainted  with  the  coun 
try  can  be  surprised  at  the  fact.  In  these  two  states — 
destined  each,  we  trust,  to  confer  additional  lustre  on 
the  galaxy  originally  composed  of  the  old  thirteen — 
yet  reside  some  of  the  most  extraordinary  men  who 
ever  lived  "  to  point  a  moral,  or  adorn  a  tale."  With 
exteriors  "  like  the  rugged  Russian  bear,"  some  of  them 
are  gifted  with  a  great  degree  of  good  sense  and  know 
ledge  of  the  world ;  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  many  are 
as  fond  of  whiskey  as  of  hunting,  and  that  there  are 
desperate  and  utterly  reckless  spirits  among  them  ;  but 
a  large  majority  of  those  to  whom  we  refer,  are  charac 
terized  by  no  more  striking  features  than  their  courtesy 
to  the  stranger,  and  their  passion  for  hunting,  except  it 
be  their  fondness  for  story-telling.  Of  adventures  and 
scenes  in  which  these  characters  stand  out  in  bold  re 
lief,  this  volume  is  mainly  composed,  relieved  occasion 
ally  by  sketches  of  men  and  things  in  some  of  the  older 
southern  states. 


X  PREFACE. 

Among  those  who  have  attracted,  of  late  years,  the 
most  attention  abroad  by  their  sketches  of  life  and  man 
ners  in  the  backwoods  of  America,  are  Col.  C.  F.  M. 
NOLAND,  of  Arkansas,  and  T.  B.  THORPE,  the  artist, 
of  Louisiana.  We  may  be  permitted  to  state,  that 
Col.  N.  is  a  son  of  the  old  Dominion,  was  educated  at 
West  Point,  was  an  officer  m  the  U.  S.  dragoons,  and 
since  his  resignation  has  been  a  resident  of  Arkansas, 
where  his  time  is  about  equally  divided  between  courts 
of  law,  the  land  offices,  and  the  legislature.  Mr. 
Thorpe,  (formerly  a  resident  of  this  city,  where  his 
family  still  resides,)  is  no  less  distinguished  as  a  writer 
than  a  painter.  Some  seven  years  since — about  the 
period  when  the  "American  Turf  Register  and  Sport 
ing  Magazine"  fell  into  our  hands — Mr.  Thorpe  en 
listed  in  the  corps  of  gifted  correspondents  who  made 
the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  their  medium  of  communi 
cation  with  the  world  of  letters.  His  sketches  of  the 
men  and  manners  of  the  great  valley  of  the  Missis 
sippi,  over  the  signature  of  "  The  Author  of  Tom 
Owen,  the  Bee  Hunter,"  have  been  read  and  admired 
wherever  our  language  is  spoken.  Col.  MASON,  "  Cap 
tain  Martin  SCOTT,"  (of  "  coon"  remembrance,)  Gen. 
GIBSON,  Maj.  MOORE,  Gen.  BROOKE,  and  a  troop  of 
other  gallant  officers  of  the  U.  S.  army,  whom  we  are 
not  permitted  to  name,  have  contributed  in  an  infinite 
degree  to  the  popularity  of  the  "  curiosities  of  litera 
ture"  so  recently  discovered.  AUDUBON,  the  late  TIMO 
THY  FLINT,  ALBERT  PIKE,  and  more  recently  CHARLES 
F.  HOFFMAN  and  CATLIN,  to  say  nothing  of  the  fanci 
ful  "Mary  Clavers"  (Mrs.  KIRKLAND.)  Captains 


PREFACE.  XI 

CARLETON,  HENRY,  ana  JOHNSTON  of  the  U.  S.  A.,  ex- 
Gov  BUTLER  and  Mr.  SIJ?LEY,  the  Indian  agents,  the 
late  M.  C.  FIELD,  Mr.  KENDALL,  of  the  "  Picayune," 
and  several  others  whose  identity  we  are  not  at  liberty 
to  disclose,  have  all  vastly  magnified,  by  their  writings, 
the  eager  curiosity  to  know  more  of  the  distinguishing 
traits  of  character  of  the  denizens  of  the  many  com 
paratively  unpeopled  regions  of  the  West  and  South 
west. 

We  should  premise  here,  that  several  of  the  eminent 
writers  just  enumerated,  are  not  represented  in  this 
volume,  its  limits  not  allowing  "  scope  and  verge 
enough."  Moreover,  of  those  not  named,  many  of 
them  would  "  find  themselves  [equally]  famous"  if  we 
dared  "  take  the  responsibility"  of  giving  their  names 
to  the  world ;  and  accordingly,  in  collating  the  mate 
rials  of  this  volume,  we  have  selected  from  the  files  of 
the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  those  articles  deemed  best 
calculated  to  answer  our  purpose.  Most,  though  not 
all,  of  the  different  sketches  in  this  volume  appeared, 
originally,  in  the  columns  of  that  journal.  Many  of 
equal,  if  not  superior,  merit  have  been  here  omitted,  on 
the  ground  that,  like  dressing  a  salad,  a  small  but  pro 
per  proportion  of  salt  and  pepper  is  quite  as  requisite 
as  the  more  material  ingredients  of  oil  and  mustard. 
This  will,  we  trust,  be  appreciated  by  every  one  who 
is  unwilling,  incontinently,  to  swear  "  on  his  honour,  the 
mustard  is  naught."  But  should  there  arise  those  of  a 
different  opinion,  we  shall  take  the  earliest  opportunity 
of  renewing  to  them  Grumio's  offer  to  the  supperlesa 
Katherme,  of  "  the  mustard  without  the  beef." 


Xll  PREFACE. 

It  is  proper  to  add,  that  the  tales  and  sketches  in 
eluded  in  this  volume  refer  to  characters  and  scenes  of 
recent  date — to  men  who  have  not  only  succeeded 
"  Mike  Fink,  the  Last  of  the  Boatmen,"  but  "  Col. 
Nimrod  Wildfire,"  and  originals  of  his  stamp.  They 
were  furnished  for  publication  mainly  by  country  gen 
tlemen,  planters,  lawyers,  &c.  "who  live  at  home  at 
ease."  We  are  utterly  precluded,  by  repeated  injunc 
tions  of  secresy,  from  giving  the  "  name"  or  "  local 
habitation"  of  any  one  of  those  not  designated  in  the 
introduction  to  the  respective  sketches.  Their  modesty 
should  be  esteemed,  indeed,  "  a  flambeau  to  their 
merit."  Most  of  them  are  gentlemen  not  only  highly 
educated,  but  endowed  with  a  keen  sense  of  whatever 
is  ludicrous  or  pathetic,  with  a  quick  perception  of  cha 
racter,  and  a  knowledge  of  men  and  the  world :  more 
than  all,  they  possess  in  an  eminent  degree  the  power 
of  transferring  to  paper  the  most  faithful  and  striking 
pictures  with  equal  originality  and  effect.  In  this 
respect  they  have  no  superiors  on  either  side  of  the 
Atlantic. 

In  the  compilation  of  this  little  volume,  the  editor 
has  been  animated  by  a  wish  to  make  it  worthy  of  those 
correspondents  who  have  extended  to  him,  in  the  con 
duct  of  two  publications  requiring  the  exercise  of  daily 
application  and  unceasing  toil,  the  aid  of  their  abler 
pens.  To  them  and  to  the  world  he  delivers  it  "  with 
the  spirit  cf  a  man  that  has  endeavoured  well." 

W.  T.  P 

Office  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times" 
New  York,  Feb.  1846 


THE 

BIG  BEAR  OF  ARKANSAS, 

BY  T.  B.  THORPE,  ESQ.  OF  LOUISIANA. 


A.S  the  author  of  "Tom  Owen  the  Bee  Hunter,"  and  other  tales  and 
sketches,  Mr.  THORPE  has  acquired  a  distinguished  reputation  on 
both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  Though  by  profession  a  painter,  his  time 
for  several  years  past  has  been  about  equally  divided  between  the 
brush  and  the  pen.  He  is  now  engaged  in  the  publication  of  the 
"  Concordia  Intelligencer,"  a  journal  of  unusual  ability,  issued  weekly 
in  the  pleasant  little  village  situated  directly  opposite  the  city  of 
Natchez.  The  New  York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  was  the  medium 
through  which  Mr.  T.  first  appeared  before  the  world  of  letters;  and 
his  inimitable  delineations  of  South-western  characters,  incidents, 
and  scenery,  soon  attracted  attention.  Now,  wherever  the  language 
is  spoken,  he  is  deemed 

"  Great  in  mouths  of  wisest  censure." 

It  is  understood  to  be  his  intention  to  publish,  at  an  early  day,  a  col 
lection  of  his  writings,  original  and  selected,  to  be  illustrated  by  him 
self.  As  he  is  alike  felicitous  in  the  use  of  crayon,  brush,  or  pen,  we 
anticipate  a  brace  or  two  of  volumes  of  the  highest  pictorial  and  lite 
rary  interest.  The  story  annexed  will  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  his 
peculiar  style  in  hitting  off  the  original  "  characters"  frequently  met 
with  in  the  great  valley  of  the  Mississippi. 

A  STEAMBOAT  on  the  Mississippi  frequently,  in 
making  her  regular  trips,  carries  between  places  vary 
ing  from  one  to  two  thousand  miles  apart ;  and  as 
these  boats  advertise  to  land  passengers  and  freight  at 
"  all  intermediate  landings,"  the  heterogeneous  charac- 

13 


14  THE   BIG   BEAK 

ter  of  the  passengers  of  one  of  these  up-count/y  boat3 
can  scarcely  be  imagined  by  one  who  has  never  seen  it 
with  his  own  eyes.  Starting  from  New  Orleans  in  one 
of  these  boats,  you  will  find  yourself  associated  with 
men  from  every  state  in  the  Union,  and  from  every  por 
tion  of  the  globe ;  and  a  man  of  observation  need  not 
lack  for  amusement  or  instruction  in  such  a  crowd,  if 
he  will  take  the  trouble  to  read  the  great  book  of  cha 
racter  so  favourably  opened  before  him.  Here  may  be 
seen  jostling  together  the  wealthy  Southern  planter,  and 
the  pedler  of  tin-ware  from  New  England — the  North 
ern  merchant,  and  the  Southern  jockey — a  venerable 
bishop,  and  a  desperate  gambler — the  land  speculator, 
and  the  honest  farmer — professional  men  of  all  creeds 
and  characters — Wolvereens,  Suckers,  Hoosiers,  Buck 
eyes,  and  Corncrackers,  beside  a  "  plentiful  sprinkling" 
of  the  half-horse  and  half-alligator  species  ot  men,  who 
are  peculiar  to  "  old  Mississippi,"  and  who  appear  to 
gain  a  livelihood  simply  by  going  up  and  down  the  river 
In  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  or  business,  I  have  frequently 
found  myself  in  such  a  crowd. 

On  one  occasion,  when  in  New  Orleans,  I  had  occa 
sion  to  take  a  trip  of  a  few  miles  up  the  Mississippi, 
and  I  hurried  on  board  the  well-known  "  high-pressure- 
and-beat-every-thing"  steamboat  "  Invincible,"  just  as 
the  last  note  of  the  last  bell  was  sounding ;  and  when 
the  confusion  and  bustle  that  is  natural  to  a  boat's  get 
ting  under  way  had  subsided,  I  discovered  that  I  was 
associated  in  as  heterogeneous  a  crowd  as  was  ever  got 
together.  As  my  trip  was  to  be  of  a  few  hours'  dura 
tion  only,  I  made  no  endeavours  to  become  acquainted 


OF   ARKANSAS.  15 

4 

with  my  fellow  passengers,  most  of  whom  would  oc  to 
gether  many  days.  Instead  of  this,  I  took  out  of  my 
pocket  the  "latest  paper,"  and  more  critically  than 
usual  examined  its  contents ;  my  fellow  passengers  at 
the  same  time  disposed  of  themselves  in  little  groups. 
While  I  was  thus  busily  employed  in  reading,  and  my 
companions  were  more  busily  still  employed  in  discuss 
ing  such  subjects  as  suited  their  humours  best,  we  were 
startled  most  unexpectedly  by  a  loud  Indian  whoop,  ut 
tered  in  the  "  social  hall,"  that  part  of  the  cabin  fitted  off 
for  a  bar ;  then  was  to  be  heard  a  loud  crowing,  which 
would  not  have  continued  to  have  interested  us — such 
sounds  being  quite  common  in  that  place  of  spirits — 
had  not  the  hero  of  these  windy  accomplishments  stuck 
his  head  into  the  cabin  and  hallooed  out,  "  Hurra  for 
the  Big  Bar  of  Arkansaw!"  and  then  might  be  heard 
a  confused  hum  of  voices,  unintelligible,  save  in  such 
broken  sentences  as  "  horse,"  "  screamer,"  "  lightning 
is  slow,"  &c.  As  might  have  been  expected,  this  con 
tinued  interruption  attracted  the  attention  of  every  one 
in  the  cabin;  all  conversation  dropped,  and  in  the 
midst  of  this  surprise  the  "  Big  Bar"  walked  into  the 
cabin,  took  a  chair,  put  his  feet  on  the  stove,  and  look 
ing  back  over  his  shoulder,  passed  the  general  and  fa 
miliar  salute  of  "  Strangers,  how  are  you  ?"  He  then 
expressed  himself  as  much  at  home  as  if  he  had  been 
at  "  the  Forks  of  Cypress,"  and  "  prehaps  a  little  more 
so."  Some  of  the  company  at  this  familiarity  looked 
a  little  angry,  and  some  astonished ;  but  in  a  moment 
every  face  was  wreathed  in  a  smile.  There  was  some 
thing  about  the  intruder  that  won  the  heart  on  siglu 


16  THE    BIG    BEAR 

He  appeared  to  be  a  man  enjoying  perfect  health  and 
contentment :  his  eyes  were  as  sparkling  as  diamonds, 
and  good-natured  to  simplicity.  Then  his  perfect  confi 
dence  in  himself  was  irresistibly  droll.  "  Prehaps," 
said  he,  "gentlemen,"  running  on  without  a  person 
speaking,  "prehaps  you  have  been  to  New  Orleans 
often ;  I  never  made  the  first  visit  before,  and  I 
don't  intend  to  make  another  in  a  crow's  life.  I  am 
thrown  away  in  that  ar  place,  and  useless,  that  ar  a 
fact.  Some  of  the  gentlemen  thar  called  me  green — 
well,  prehaps  I  am,  said  I,  but  I  arn't  so  at  home;  and 
if  I  aint  off  my  trail  much,  the  heads  of  them  perlite 
chaps  themselves  wern't  much  the  hardest ;  for  ac 
cording  to  my  notion,  they  were  real  know-nothings, 
green  as  a  pumpkin-vine — could'nt,  in  farming,  I'll  bet, 
raise  a  crop  of  turnips :  and  as  for  shooting,  they'd 
miss  a  barn  if  the  door  was  swinging,  and  that,  too, 
with  the  best  rifle  in  the  country.  And  then  they  talked 
to  me  'bout  hunting,  and  laughed  at  my  calling  the  prin 
cipal  game  in  Arkansaw  poker,  and  high-low-jack. 
'  Prehaps,'  said  I,  '  you  prefer  chickens  and  rolette ;' 
at  this  they  laughed  harder  than  ever,  and  asked  me 
if  I  lived  in  the  woods,  and  didn't  know  what  game 
was?  At  this  I  rather  think  I  laughed.  'Yes,'  I 
roared,  and  says,  *  Strangers,  if  you'd  asked  me  how 
we  got  our  meat  in  Arkansaw,  I'd  a  told  you  at  once, 
and  given  you  a  list  of  varmints  that  would  make  a  car 
avan,  beginning  with  the  bar,  and  ending  off  with  the 
cat ;  that's  meat  though,  not  game.'  Game,  indeed, 
that's  what  city  folks  call  it ;  and  with  them  it  means 
chippen-birds  and  shite-pokes ;  maybe  such  trash  live 


OF    ARKANSAS.  17 

in  my  diggins,  but  I  arn't  noticed  them  yet :  a  bird  any 
way  is  too  trifling.  I  never  did  shoot  at  but  one,  and 
I'd  never  forgiven  myself  for  that,  had  it  weighed  less 
than  forty  pounds.  I  wouldn't  draw  a  rifle  on  any 
thing  less  than  that ;  and  when  I  meet  with  another 
wild  turkey  of  the  same  weight  I  will  drap  him." 

"  A  wild  turkey  weighing  forty  pounds  !"  exclaimed 
twenty  voices  in  the  cabin  at  once. 

"  Yes,  strangers,  and  wasn't  it  a  whopper  ?  You  see, 
the  thing  was  so  fat  that  it  couldn't  fly  far ;  and  when 
he  fell  out  of  the  tree,  after  I  shot  him,  on  striking  the 
ground  he  bust  open  behind,  and  the  way  the  pound 
gobs  of  tallow  rolled  out  of  the  opening  was  perfectly 
beautiful." 

"  Where  did  all  that  happen  ?"  asked  a  cynical-look 
ing  Hoosier. 

"  Happen !  happened  in  Arkansaw :  where  else 
could  it  have  happened,  but  in  the  creation  state,  the 
finishing-up  country — a  state  where  the  sile  runs  down 
to  the  centre  of  the  'arth,  and  government  gives  you  a 
title  to  every  inch  of  it?  Then  its  airs — just  breathe 
them,  and  they  will  make  you  snort  like  a  horse.  It's 
a  state  without  a  fault,  it  is." 

"  Excepting  mosquitoes,"  cried  the  Hoosier. 

"  Well,  stranger,  except  them  ;  for  it  ar  a  fact  that 
they  are  rather  enormous,  and  do  push  themselves  in 
somewhat  troublesome.  But,  stranger,  they  never  stick 
twice  in  the  same  place ;  and  give  them  a  fair  chance  for 
a  few  months,  and  you  will  get  as  much  above  noticing 
them  as  an  alligator.  They  can't  hurt  my  feelings,  for 
they  lay  under  the  skin ;  and  I  never  knew  but  one  casa 


18  THE   BIG   BEAR 

of  injury  resulting  from  them,  and  that  was  to  a  Yan 
kee  :  and  they  take  worse  to  foreigners,  any  how,  than 
they  do  to  natives.  But  the  way  they  used  that  fellow 
up !  first  they  punched  him  until  he  swelled  up  and 
busted ;  then  he  sup-per-a-ted,  as  the  doctor  called  it, 
until  he  was  as  raw  as  beef;  then  he  took  the  ager, 
owing  to  the  warm  weather,  and  finally  he  took  a  steam 
boat  and  left  the  country.  He  was  the  only  man  that 
ever  took  mosquitoes  at  heart  that  I  know  of.  But 
mosquitoes  is  natur,  and  I  never  find  fault  with  her.  If 
they  ar  large,  Arkansaw  is  large,  her  varmints  ar  large, 
her  trees  ar  large,  her  rivers  ar  large,  and  a  small  mos- 
quitoe  would  be  of  no  more  use  in  Arkansaw  than 
preaching  in  a  cane-brake." 

This  knock-down  argument  in  favour  of  big  mosqui 
toes  used  the  Hoosier  up,  and  the  logician  started  on  a 
new  track,  to  explain  how  numerous  bear  were  in  his 
"  diggins,"  where  he  represented  them  to  be  "  about 
as  plenty  as  blackberries,  and  a  little  plentifuler." 

Upon  the  utterance  of  this  assertion,  a  timid  little 
man  near  me  inquired  if  the  bear  in  Arkansaw  ever 
attacked  the  settlers  in  numbers. 

"  No,"  said  our  hero,  warming  with  the  subject,  "  no, 
stranger,  for  you  see  it  ain't  the  natur  of  bar  to  go  in 
droves  ;  but  the  way  they  squander  about  in  pairs  and 
single  ones  is  edifying.  And  then  the  way  I  hunt  them 
— the  old  black  rascals  know  the  crack  of  my  gun  as 
well  as  they  know  a  pig's  squealing.  They  grow  thin 
in  our  parts,  it  frightens  them  so,  and  they  do  take  the 
noise  dreadfully,  poor  things.  That  gun  of  mine  is  a 
erfect  epidemic  among  bar :  if  not  watched  closely,  it 


OF   ARKANSAS.  19 

will  go  off  as  quick  on  a  warm  scent  as  my  dog  Bowie- 
knife  will :  and  then  that  dog — whew !  why  the  fellow 
thinks  that  the  world  is  full  of  bar,  he  finds  them  so 
easy.  It's  lucky  he  don't  talk  as  well  as  think;  for 
with  his  natural  modesty,  if  he  should  suddenly  learn 
how  much  he  is  acknowledged  to  be  ahead  of  all  other 
dogs  in  the  universe,  he  would  be  astonished  to  death 
in  two  minutes.  Strangers,  that  dog  knows  a  bar's 
way  as  well  as  a  horse-jockey  knows  a  woman's :  he 
always  barks  at  the  right  time,  bites  at  the  exact  place, 
and  whips  without  getting  a  scratch.  I  never  could  tell 
whether  he  was  made  expressly  to  hunt  bar,  or  whether 
bar  was  made  expressly  for  him  to  hunt :  any  way,  I 
believe  they  were  ordained  to  go  together  as  naturally 
as  Squire  Jones  says  a  man  and  woman  is,  when  he 
moralizes  in  marrying  a  couple.  In  fact,  Jones  once 
said,  said  he,  '  Marriage  according  to  law  is  a  civil  con 
tract  of  divine  origin ;  it's  common  to  all  countries  as 
well  as  Arkansaw,  and  people  take  to  it  as  naturally  as 
Jim  Doggett's  Bowie-knife  takes  to  bar.'  " 

"  What  season  of  the  year  do  your  hunts  take  place?" 
inquired  a  gentlemanly  foreigner,  who,  from  some  pe 
culiarities  of  his  baggage,  I  suspected  to  be  an  English 
man,  on  some  hunting  expedition,  probably  at  the  foot 
of  the  Rocky  mountains. 

"  The  season  for  bar  hunting,  stranger,"  said  the  man 
of  Arkansaw,  "  is  generally  all  the  year  round,  and  the 
hunts  take  place  about  as  regular.  I  read  in  history 
that  varmints  have  their  fat  season,  and  their  lean  sea 
son.  That  is  not  the  case  in  Arkansaw,  feeding  as  they 
do  upon  the  spontenacious  productions  of  the  sile,  tney 
38 


20  THE   BIG    BEAR 

have  one  continued  fat  season  the  year  round :  though 
in  winter  things  in  this  way  is  rather  more  greasy  than 
in  summer,  I  must  admit.  For  that  reason  bar  with  us 
run  in  warm  weather,  but  in  winter  they  only  waddle. 
Fat,  fat !  it's  an  enemy  to  speed  ;  it  tames  every  thing 
that  has  plenty  of  it.  I  have  seen  wild  turkeys,  from 
its  influence,  as  gentle  as  chickens.  Run  a  bar  in  this 
fat  condition,  and  the  way  it  improves  the  critter  for 
eating  is  amazing ;  it  sort  of  mixes  the  ile  up  with  the 
meat,  until  you  can't  tell  t'other  from  which.  I've  done 
this  often.  I  recollect  one  perty  morning  in  particular, 
of  putting  an  old  he  fellow  on  the  stretch,  and  consider 
ing  the  weight  he  carried,  he  run  well.  But  the  dogs 
soon  tired  him  down,  and  when  I  came  up  with  him 
wasn't  he  in  a  beautiful  sweat — I  might  say  fever  ;  and 
then  to  see  his  tongue  sticking  out  of  his  mouth  a  feet, 
and  his  sides  sinking  and  opening  like  a  bellows,  and 
his  cheeks  so  fat  he  couldn't  look  cross.  In  this  fix  I 
blazed  at  him,  and  pitch  me  naked  into  a  briar  patch 
if  the  steam  didn't  come  out  of  the  bullet-hole  ten  foot 
in  a  straight  line.  The  fellow,  I  reckon,  was  made  on 
the  high-pressure  system,  and  the  lead  sort  of  bust  his 
biler." 

"  That  column  of  steam  was  rather  curious,  or  else 
the  bear  must  have  been  warm,"  observed  the  foreigner, 
with  a  laugh. 

"  Stranger,  as  you  observe,  that  bar  was  WARM,  and 
the  blowing  off  of  the  steam  show'd  it,  and  also  how 
hard  the  varmint  had  been  run.  I  have  no  doubt  if  he 
had  kept  on  two  miles  farther  his  insides  would  have 
been  stewed ;  and  I  expect  to  meet  with  a  varmint  yet  of 


OF  ARKANSAS.  21 

extra  bottom,  who  will  run  himself  into  a  skinfull  of 
bar's  grease:  it  is  possible;  much  onlikelier  things  have 
happened." 

"  Whereabouts  are  these  bears  so  abundant  ?"  in 
quired  the  foreigner,  with  increasing  interest. 

"  Why,  stranger,  they  inhabit  the  neighbourhood  of 
my  settlement,  one  of  the  prettiest  places  on  old  Mis 
sissippi — a  perfect  location,  and  no  mistake ;  a  place 
that  had  some  defects  until  the  river  made  the  'cut-off' 
at  '  Shirt-tail  bend,'  and  that  remedied  the  evil,  as  it 
brought  my  cabin  on  the  edge  of  the  river — a  great  ad 
vantage  in  wet  weather,  I  assure  you,  as  you  can  now 
roll  a  barrel  of  whiskey  into  my  yard  in  high  water  from 
a  boat,  as  easy  as  falling  off  a  log.  It's  a  great  im 
provement,  as  toting  it  by  land  in  a  jug,  as  I  used  to  do, 
evaporated  it  too  fast,  and  it  became  expensive.  Just 
stop  with  me,  stranger,  a  month  or  two,  or  a  year  if  you 
like,  and  you  will  appreciate  my  place.  I  can  give  you 
plenty  to  eat ;  for  beside  hog  and  hominy,  you  can  have 
bar-ham,  and  bar-sausages,  and  a  mattrass  of  bar-skins 
to  sleep  on,  and  a  wildcat-skin,  pulled  off  hull,  stuffed 
with  corn-shucks,  for  a  pillow.  That  bed  would  put 
you  to  sleep  if  you  had  the  rheumatics  in  every  .joint  in 
your  body.  I  call  that  ar  bed  a  quietus.  Then  look  at 
my  land — the  government  ain't  got  another  such  a  piece 
to  dispose  of.  Such  timber,  and  such  bottom  land, 
why  you  can't  preserve  any  thing  natural  you  plant  in 
it  unless  you  pick  it  young,  things  thar  will  grow  ou* 
of  shape  so  quick.  I  once  planted  in  those  diggins  a 
few  potatoes  and  beets :  they  took  a  fine  start,  and  aftei 
that  an  ox  team  couldn't  have  kept  them  from  growing. 


22  THE    BIG    BEAR 

About  that  time  I  went  off  to  old  Kentuck  on  bisiness, 
and  did  not  hear  from  them  things  in  three  months, 
when  I  accidentally  stumbled  on  a  fellow  who  had  stop 
ped  at  my  place,  with  an  idea  of  buying  me  out.  '  How 
did  you  like  things  ?'  said  I.  '  Pretty  well,'  said  he ;  '  the 
cabin  is  convenient,  and  the  timber  land  is  good ;  but 
that  bottom  land  ain't  worth  the  first  red  cent.'  '  Why?' 
said  I.  ''Cause,'  said  he.  ''Cause  what?'  said  I. 
'  'Cause  it's  full  of  cedar  stumps  and  Indian  mounds,' 
said  he,  '  and  it  can't  be  cleared.'  '  Lord,'  said  I,  '  them 
ar  "cedar  stumps"  is  beets,  and  them  ar  "Indian 
mounds"  ar  tater  hills.'  As  I  expected,  the  crop  was 
overgrown  and  useless :  the  sile  is  too  rich,  and  plant 
ing  in  Arkansaw  is  dangerous.  I  had  a  good-sized  sow 
killed  in  that  same  bottom  land.  The  old  thief  stole  an 
ear  of  corn,  and  took  it  down  where  she  slept  at  night 
to  eat.  Well,  she  left  a  grain  or  two  on  the  ground, 
and  lay  down  on  them :  before  morning  the  corn  shot 
up,  and  the  percussion  killed  her  dead.  I  don't  plant 
any  more :  natur  intended  Arkansaw  for  a  hunting 
ground,  and  I  go  according  to  natur." 

The  questioner  who  thus  elicited  the  description  of 
our  hero's  settlement,  seemed  to  be  perfectly  satisfied, 
and  said  no  more;  but  the  "Big  Bar  of  Arkansaw" 
rambled  on  from  one  thing  to  another  with  a  volubility 
perfectly  astonishing,  occasionally  disputing  with  those 
around  him,  particularly  with  a  "  live  Sucker"  from 
Illinois,  who  had  the  daring  to  say  that  our  Arkansaw 
friend's  stories  "  smelt  rather  tall." 

In  this  manner  the  evening  was  spent ;  but  conscious 
that  my  own  association  with  so  singular  a  personage 


OF    ARKANSAS.  23 

would  probably  end  before  morning,  I  asked  him  if  he 
would  not  give  me  a  description  of  some  particular  bear 
hunt ;  adding,  that  I  took  great  interest  in  such  things, 
though  I  was  no  sportsman.  The  desire  seemed  to 
please  him,  and  he  squared  himself  round  towards  me, 
saying,  that  he  could  give  me  an  idea  of  a  bar  hunt  that 
was  never  beat  in  this  world,  or  in  any  other.  His  man 
ner  was  so  singular,  that  half  of  his  story  consisted  in 
his  excellent  way  of  telling  it,  the  great  peculiarity  of 
which  was,  the  happy  manner  he  had  of  emphasizing 
the  prominent  parts  of  his  conversation.  As  near  as  I 
can  recollect,  I  have  italicized  them,  and  given  the 
story  in  his  own  words. 

"  Stranger,"  said  he,  "in  bar  hunts  I  am  numerous, 
and  which  particular  one,  as  you  say,  I  shall  tell,  puz 
zles  me.  There  was  the  old  she  devil  I  shot  at  the 
Hurricane  last  fall — then  there  was  the  old  hog  thief  I 
popped  over  at  the  Bloody  Crossing,  and  then — Yes,  I 
have  it !  I  will  give  you  an  idea  of  a  hunt,  in  which  the 
greatest  bar  was  killed  that  ever  lived,  none  excepted ; 
about  an  old  fellow  that  I  hunted,  more  or  less,  for  two 
or  three  years  ;  and  if  that  ain't  a  particular  bar  hunt, 
I  ain't  got  one  to  tell.  But  in  the  first  place,  stranger, 
let  me  say,  I  am  pleased  with  you,  because  you  ain't 
ashamed  to  gain  information  by  asking,  and  listening , 
and  that's  what  I  say  to  Countess's  pups  every  day 
when  I'm  home ;  and  I  have  got  great  hopes  of  them 
ar  pups,  because  they  are  continually  nosing  about ;  and 
though  they  stick  it  sometimes  in  the  wrong  place,  they 
gain  experience  any  how,  and  may  learn  something 
useful  to  boot.  Well,  as  I  was  saying  about  this  big 


24  THEBIGBEAR 

bar,  you  see  when  I  and  some  more  first  settled  in  our 
region,  we  were  drivin  to  hunting  naturally  ;  we  soon 
liked  it,  and  after  that  we  found  it  an  easy  matter  to 
make  the  thing  our  business.  One  old  chap  who  had 
pioneered  'afore  us,  gave  us  to  understand  that  we  had 
settled  in  the  right  place.  He  dwelt  upon  its  merits 
until  it  was  affecting,  and  showed  us,  to  prove  his  as 
sertions,  more  marks  on  the  sassafras  trees  than  I  ever 
saw  on  a  tavern  door  'lection  time.  '  Who  keeps  that 
ar  reckoning  ?'  said  I.  '  The  bar,'  said  he.  '  What 
for  ?'  said  I.  '  Can't  tell,'  said  he ;  '  but  so  it  is :  the 
bar  bite  the  bark  and  wood  too,  at  the  highest  point 
from  the  ground  they  can  reach,  and  you  can  tell,  by 
the  marks,'  said  he,  '  the  length  of  the  bar  to  an  inch.' 
'  Enough,'  said  I ; '  I've  learned  something  here  a'ready, 
and  I'll  put  it  in  practice.' 

Well,  stranger,  just  one  month  from  that  time  I  killed 
a  bar,  and  told  its  exact  length  before  I  measured  it,  by 
those  very  marks ;  and  when  I  did  that,  I  swelled  up 
considerable — I've  been  a  prouder  man  ever  since.  So 
I  went  on,  laming  something  every  day,  until  I  was 
reckoned  a  buster,  and  allowed  to  be  decidedly  the  best 
bar  hunter  in  my  district ;  and  that  is  a  reputation  as 
much  harder  to  earn  thp.n  to  be  reckoned  first  man 
in  Congress,  as  an  iron  ramrod  is  harder  than  a  toad 
stool.  Did  the  varmints  grow  over-cunning  by  being 
fooled  with  by  green-horn  hunters,  and  by  this  means 
get  troublesome,  they  send  for  mt-  as  a  matter  of  course ; 
and  thus  I  do  my  own  hunting,  and  most  of  my  neigh 
bours'.  I  walk  into  the  varmints  though,  and  it  has 
become  about  as  much  the  same  to  me  as  drinking. 


OF    ARKANSAS.  25 

It  is  told  in  two  sentences — a  bar  is  started,  and  he  is 
killed.  The  thing  is  somewhat  monotonous  now — I 
know  just  how  much  they  will  run,  where  they  will  tire, 
how  much  they  will  growl,  and  what  a  thundering  time 
I  will  have  in  getting  them  home.  I  could  give  you  this 
history  of  the  chase  with  all  the  particulars  at  the  com 
mencement,  I  know  the  signs  so  well — Stranger,  Fm 
certain.  Once  I  met  with  a  match  though,  and  I  will 
tell  you  about  it ;  for  a  common  hunt  would  not  be 
worth  relating. 

"  On  a  fine  fall  day,  long  time  ago,  I  was  trailing 
about  for  bar,  and  what  should  I  see  but  fresh  marks  on 
the  sassafras  trees,  about  eight  inches  above  any  in  the 
forests  that  I  knew  of.  Says  I,  *  them  marks  is  a  hoax, 

or  it  indicates  the  d 1  bar  that  was  ever  grown.'  In 

fact,  stranger,  I  couldn't  believe  it  was  real,  and  I  went 
on.  Again  I  saw  the  same  marks,  at  the  same  height, 
and  I  knew  the  thing  lived.  That  conviction  came  home 
to  my  soul  like  an  earthquake.  Says  I,  '  here  is  some 
thing  a-purpose  for  me :  that  bar  is  mine,  or  I  give  up 
the  hunting  business.'  The  very  next  morning  what 
should  I  see  but  a  number  of  buzzards  hovering  over 
my  corn-field.  '  The  rascal  has  been  there,'  said  I, 
'  for  that  sign  is  certain  :'  and,  sure  enough,  on  examin 
ing,  I  found  the  bones  of  what  had  been  as  beautiful 
a  hog  the  day  before,  as  was  ever  raised  by  a  Buck 
eye.  Then  I  tracked  the  critter  out  of  the  field  to  the 
woods,  and  all  the  marks  he  left  behind,  showed  me 
that  he  was  the  bar.  •+ 

"  Well,  stranger,  the  first  fair  chase  I  ever  had  with 
that  big  critter,  I  saw  him  no  less  than  three  distinct 


26  THEBIGBEAR 

times  at  a  distance :  the  dogs  run  him  over  eighteen 
miles  and  broke  down,  my  horse  gave  out,  and  I  was 
us  nearly  used  up  as  a  man  can  be,  made  on  my  prin 
ciple,  which  is  patent.  Before  this  adventure,  such 
things  were  unknown  to  me  as  possible ;  but,  strange 
as  it  was,  that  bar  got  me  used  to  it  before  I  was  done 
with  him  ;  for  he  got  so  at  last,  that  he  would  leave  me 
on  a  long  chase  quite  easy.  How  he  did  it,  I  never 
could  understand.  That  a  bar  runs  at  all,  is  puzzling ; 
but  how  this  one  could  tire  down  and  bust  up  a  pack 
of  hounds  and  a  horse,  that  were  used  to  overhauling 
everything  they  started  after  in  no  time,  was  past  my 
understanding.  Well,  stranger,  that  bar  finally  got  so 
sassy,  that  he  used  to  help  himself  to  a  hog  off  my  pre 
mises  whenever  he  wanted  one  ;  the  buzzards  followed 
after  what  he  left,  and  so,  between  bar  and  buzzard,  I 
rather  think  I  was  out  of  pork. 

"  Well,  missing  that  bar  so  often  took  hold  of  my 
vitals,  and  I  wasted  away.  The  thing  had  been  carried 
too  far,  and  it  reduced  me  in  flesh  faster  than  an  ager. 
I  would  see  that  bar  in  every  thing  I  did :  he  hunted 
me,  and  that,  too,  like  a  devil,  which  I  began  to  think 
he  was.  While  in  this  fix,  I  made  preparations  to  give 
him  a  last  brush,  and  be  done  with  it.  Having  com 
pleted  every  thing  to  iny  satisfaction,  I  started  at  sun 
rise,  and  to  my  great  joy,  I  discovered  from  the  way 
the  dogs  run,  that  they  were  near  him  ;  finding  his  trail 
was  nothing,  for  that  had  become  as  plain  to  the  pack 
as  a  turnpike  road.  .On  we  went,  and  coming  to  an 
open  country,  what  should  I  see  but  the  bar  very  lei 
surely  ascending  a  hill,  and  the  dogs  close  at  his  heels, 


OF   ARKANSAS.  27 

either  a  match  for  him  this  time  in  speed,  or  else  he 
did  not  care  to  get  out  of  their  way — I  don't  know 
which.  But  wasn't  he  a  beauty,  though?  I  loved  him 
'ike  a  brother. 

"  On  he  went,  until  he  carne  to  a  tree,  the  limbs  of 
which  formed  a  crotch  about  six  feet  from  the  ground. 
Into  this  crotch  he  got  and  seated  himself,  the  dogs  yell 
ing  all  around  it;  and  there  he  sat  eyeing  them  as  quiet 
as  a  pond  in  low  water.  A  green-horn  friend  of  mine,  in 
company,  reached  shooting  distance  before  me,  and 
blazed  away,  hitting  the  critter  in  the  centre  of  his 
forehead.  The  bar  shook  his  head  as  the  ball  struck 
it,  and  then  walked  down  from  that  tree  as  gently  as  a 
lady  would  from  a  carriage.  'Twas  a  beautiful  sight 
to  see  him  do  that — he  was  in  such  a  rage  that  he 
seemed  to  be  as  little  afraid  of  the  dogs  as  if  they  had 
been  sucking  pigs ;  and  the  dogs  warn't  slow  in  making 
a  ring  around  him  at  a  respectful  distance,  I  tell  you ; 
even  Bowie-knife,  himself,  stood  off.  Then  the  way  his 
eyes  flashed — why  the  fire  of  them  would  have  singed  a 
cat's  hair ;  in  fact  that  bar  was  in  a  u-ralh  all  over.  Only 
one  pup  came  near  him,  and  he  was  brushed  out  so  to 
tally  with  the  bar's  left  paw,  that  he  entirely  disappeared ; 
and  that  made  the  old  dogs  more  cautious  still.  In  the 
mean  time,  I  came  up,  and  taking  deliberate  aim  as  a 
man  should  do,  at  his  side,  just  back  of  his  foreleg,  if 
niy  gun  did  not  snap,  call  me  a  coward,  and  I  won't 
take  it  personal.  Yes,  stranger,  it  snapped,  and  I  could 
not  find  a  cap  about  my  person.  While  in  this  predica 
ment,  I  turned  round  to  my  fool  friend — says  I.  '  Bill,' 
says  I,  '  you're  an  ass — you're  a  fool — you  might  as 


28  THE    BIG   BEAR 

well  have  tried  to  kill  that  bar  by  barking  the  tree  un 
der  his  belly,  as  to  have  done  it  by  hitting  him  in  the 
head.  Your  shot  has  made  a  tiger  of  him,  and  blast 
me,  if  a  dog  gets  killed  or  wounded  when  they  come  to 

blows,  I  will  stick  my  knife  into  your  liver,  I  will ' 

my  wrath  was  up.  I  had  lost  my  caps,  my  gun  had 
snapped,  the  fellow  with  me  had  fired  at  the  bar's  head, 
and  I  expected  every  moment  to  see  him  close  in  with 
the  dogs,  and  kill  a  dozen  of  them  at  least.  In  this 
thing  I  was  mistaken,  for  the  bar  leaped  over  the  ring 
formed  by  the  dogs,  and  giving  a  fierce  growl,  was  off 
— the  pack,  of  course,  in  full  cry  after  him.  The  run 
this  time  was  short,  for  coming  to  the  edge  of  a  lake 
the  varmint  jumped  in,  and  swam  to  a  little  island  in 
the  lake,  which  it  reached  just  a  moment  before  the 
dogs.  '  I'll  have  him  now,'  said  I,  for  I  had  found  my 
caps  in  the  lining  of  my  coat — so,  rolling  a  log  into  the 
lake,  I  paddled  myself  across  to  the  island,  just  as  the 
dogs  had  cornered  the  bar  in  a  thicket.  I  rushed  up 
and  fired — at  the  same  time  the  critter  leaped  over  the 
dogs  and  came  within  three  feet  of  me,  running  like 
mad;  he  jumped  into  the  lake,  and  tried  to  mount  the 
log  I  had  just  deserted,  but  every  time  he  got  half  his 
body  on  it,  it  would  roll  over  and  send  him  under;  the 
dogs,  too,  got  around  him,  and  pulled  him  about,  and 
finally  Bowie-knife  clenched  with  him,  and  they  sunk 
into  the  lake  together.  Stranger,  about  this  time  I  was 
excited,  and  I  stripped  off  my  coat,  drew  my  knife,  and 
intended  to  have  taken  a  part  with  Bowie-knife  myself, 
when  the  bar  rose  to  the  surface.  But  the  varmint 
staid  under — Bowie-knife  «ame  up  alone,  more  dead 


'  He  jumped  into  the  lake  and  tried  to  mount  th«  log."— Page  2S. 


OF   ARKANSAS.  29 

than  alive,  and  with  the  pack  came  ashore.  '  Thank 
God,'  said  I,  '  the  old  villain  has  got  his  deserts  at  last.' 
Determined  to  have  the  body,  I  cut  a  grape-vine  for  a 
rope,  and  dove  down  where  I  could  see  the  bar  in  the 
water,  fastened  my  queer  rope  to  his  leg,  and  fished 
him,  with  great  difficulty,  ashore.  Stranger,  may  I  be 
chawed  to  death  by  young  alligators,  if  the  thing  I 
looked  at  wasn't  a  she  bar,  and  not  the  old  critter  after 
all.  The  way  matters  got  mixed  on  that  island  was 
onaccountably  curious,  and  thinking  of  it  made  me 
more  than  ever  convinced  that  I  was  hunting  the  devil 
himself.  I  went  home  that  night  and  took  to  my  bed 
— the  thing  was  killing  me.  The  entire  team  of  Ar- 
kansaw  in  bar-hunting,  acknowledged  himself  used  up, 
and  the  fact  sunk  into  my  feelings  like  a  snagged  boat 
will  in  the  Mississippi.  I  grew  as  cross  as  a  bar  with 
two  cubs  and  a  sore  tail.  The  thing  got  out  'mong  my 
neighbours,  and  I  was  asked  how  come  on  that  individ- 
u-al  that  never  lost  a  bar  when  once  started  ?  and  if 
that  same  individ-u-al  didn't  wear  telescopes  when  he 
turned  a  she  bar,  of  ordinary  size,  into  an  old  he  one, 
a  little  larger  than  a  horse?  'Prehaps,'  said  I,  'friends' 
— getting  wrathy — '  prehaps  you  want  to  call  somebody 
a  liar.'  '  Oh,  no,'  said  they,  '  we  only  heard  such  things 
as  being  rather  common  of  late,  but  we  don't  believe  one 
word  of  it ;  oh,  no,' — and  then  they  would  ride  off  and 
laugh  like  so  many  hyenas  over  a  dead  nigger.  It  was 
too  much,  and  I  determined  to  catch  that  bar,  go  t« 
Texas,  or  die, — and  I  made  my  preparations  accordin7. 
I  had  the  pack  shut  up  and  rested.  I  took  my  rifle  to 
pieces,  and  iled  it.  I  put  caps  in  every  pocket  about 


30  THEBIGBEAR 

my  person,  for  fear  of  the  lining.  I  then  told  my  neigh 
bours,  that  on  Monday  morning — naming  the  day — I 
would  start  THAT  BAR,  and  bring  him  home  with  me,  or 
they  might  divide  my  settlement  among  them,  the  owner 
having  disappeared.  Well,  stranger,  on  the  morning 
previous  to  the  great  day  of  my  hunting  expedition,  I 
went  into  the  woods  near  my  house,  taking  my  gun  and 
Bowie-knife  along,  just  from  habit,  and  there  sitting 
down  also  from  habit,  what  should  I  see,  getting  over 
my  fence,  but  the  bar  !  Yes,  the  old  varmint  was  within 
a  hundred  yards  of  me,  and  the  way  he  walked  over 
that  fence — stranger,  he  loomed  up  like  a  black  mist, 
he  seemed  so  large,  and  he  walked  right  towards  me. 
I  raised  myself,  took  deliberate  aim,  and  fired.  In 
stantly  the  varmint  wheeled,  gave  a  yell,  and  walked 
through  the  fence  like  a  falling  tree  would  through  a 
cobweb.  I  started  after,  but  was  tripped  up  by  my  in 
expressibles,  which  either  from  habit,  or  the  excitement 
of  the  moment,  were  about  my  heels,  and  before  I  had 
really  gathered  myself  up,  I  heard  the  old  varmint 
groaning  in  a  thicket  near  by,  like  a  thousand  sinners, 
and  by  the  time  I  reached  him  he  was  a  corpse.  Stran 
ger,  it  took  five  niggers  and  myself  to  put  that  carcase 
on  a  mule's  back,  and  old  long-ears  waddled  under  his 
load,  as  if  he  was  foundered  in  every  leg  of  his  body, 
and  with  a  common  whopper  of  a  bar,  he  would  have 
trotted  off,  and  enjoyed  himself.  'T would  astonish  you 
to  know  how  big  he  was :  I  made  a  bed-spread  of  his 
skin,  and  the  way  it  used  to  cover  my  bar  mattress,  and 
leave  several  feet  on  each  side  to  tuck  up,  would  have 
delighted  you.  It  was  in  fact  a  creation  bar,  and  if  it 


OF   ARKANSAS.  31 

had  lived  in  Samson's  time,  and  had  met  him,  in  a  fair 
fight,  it  would  have  licked  him  in  the  twinkling  of  a 
dice-box.  But,  stranger,  I  never  liked  the  way  I  hunt 
ed  him,  and  missed  him.  There  is  something  curious 
about  it,  I  could  never  understand, — and  I  never  was 
satisfied  at  his  giving  in  so  easy  at  last.  Prehaps,  he 
had  heard  of  my  preparations  to  hunt  him  the  next  day, 
so  he  jist  come  in,  like  Capt.  Scott's  coon,  to  save  his 
wind  to  grunt  with  in  dying ;  but  that  ain't  likely.  My 
private  opinion  is,  that  that  bar  was  an  unhuntable  bar, 
and  died  when  his  time  come." 

When  the  story  was  ended,  our  hero  sat  some  mi 
nutes  with  his  auditors  in  a  grave  silence ;  I  saw  there 
was  a  mystery  to  him  connected  with  the  bear  whose 
death  he  had  just  related,  that  had  evidently  made  a 
strong  impression  on  his  mind.  It  was  also  evident 
that  there  was  some  superstitious  awe  connected  with 
the  affair, — a  feeling  common  with  all  "  children  of  the 

*  o 

wood,"  when  they  meet  with  any  thing  out  of  their  every 
day  experience.  He  was  the  first  one,  however,  to 
break  the  silence,  and  jumping  up,  he  asked  all  present 
to  "  liquor"  before  going  to  bed, — a  thing  which  he  did, 
with  a  number  of  companions,  evidently  to  his  heart's 
content. 

Long  before  day,  I  was  put  ashore  at  my  place  of 
destination,  and  I  can  only  follow  with  the  reader,  in 
imagination,  our  Arkansas  friend,  in  his  adventures  at 
the  "  Forks  of  Cypress"  on  the  Mississippi. 


JONES'  MGHT, 

A  STORY  OF  KENTUCKY BY  AN  ALABAMIAN. 


The  inimitable  story  which  follows,  was,  like  ihe  preceding  one,  writ 
ten  for  the  New  York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  where  it  first  appeared 
in  January,  1840;  but  such  has  been  the  demand  for  it,  that  it  has 
been  republished  in  the  same  journal  more  than  once.  The  writer, 
who  is  also  the  author  of  "A  Quarter  Race  in  Kentucky,"  is  a  planter 
of  North  Alabama,  and  a  gentleman  of  family  and  fortune.  Greatly 
does  the  editor  regret  that  his  lips  are  sealed  as  to  the  name  and  lo 
cal  habitation  of  this  favoured  disciple  ol'Momus.  In  many  respects, 
"  Jones'  Fight"  is  hardly  surpassed  by  any  sketch  in  the  language — 
not  even  by  Tom  Hood's  "  Antiquity  of  Horse  Racing."  No  appeals 
to  the  writer — for  vanity  or  cupidity  "  is  not  in  him" — will  induce 
him  to  write  oftenerthan  "  when  the  '  Spirit'  moves."  Few  gentle 
men  are  better  known  in  the  sporting  world,  as  a  breeder  and  turf 
man,  or  who  have  more  distinguished  themselves  by  their  wealth, 
enterprise  and  spirit. 

COL.  DICK  JONES  was  decidedly  the  great  man  of 
the  village  of  Summerville.  He  was  colonel  of  the 
regiment — he  had  represented  his  district  in  congress — 
he  had  been  spoken  of  as  candidate  for  governor — he 
was  at  the  head  of  the  bar  in  Hawkins  county,  Ken 
tucky,  and  figured  otherwise  largely  in  public  life.  His 
legal  opinion  and  advice  were  highly  valued  by  the 
senior  part  of  the  population — his  dress  and  taste  was 
law  to  the  juniors  —  his  easy,  affable,  and  attentive 
manner  charmed  all  the  matrons — his  dignified  polite 
ness  captivated  the  young  ladies  —  and  his  suavity 
32 


JONES'  FIGHT.  33 

and  condescension  delighted  the  little  boarding-school 
misses.  He  possessed  a  universal  smattering  of  infor 
mation — his  manners  were  the  most  popular ;  extremely 
friendly  and  obliging,  lively  and  witty;  and,  in  short, 
he  was  a  very  agreeable  companion. 

Yet  truth  requires  it  to  be  admitted,  that  Col.  Dick 
Jones  was  professionally  more  specious  than  deep,  and 
that  his  political  advancement  was  owing  to  personal 
partiality  more  than  superior  merit — that  his  taste  and 
dress  were  of  questionable  propriety:  for  instance,  he 
occasionally  wore  a  hunting-shirt  white  fringed,  or  a  red 
waistcoat,  or  a  fawn-skin  one,  or  a  calico  morning- 
gown  of  a  small  yellow  pattern,  and  he  indulged  in 
other  similar  vagaries  in  clothing.  And  in  manners 
and  deportment,  there  was  an  air  of  harmless  (true  Vir 
ginian  bred  and  Kentucky  raised)  self-conceit  and 
swagger,  which,  though  not  to  be  admired,  yet  it  gave 
piquancy  and  individuality  to  his  character. 

If  further  particulars  are  required,  I  can  only  state 
that  the  colonel  boarded  at  the  Eagle  hotel — his  office, 
in  the  square,  fronted  the  court-house — he  was  a  ma 
nager  of  all  the  balls — he  was  vice-president  of  the 
Summer ville  Jockey  Club — he  was  trustee  of  the  Fe 
male  Academy — he  gallanted  the  old  ladies  to  church, 
holding  his  umbrella  over  them  in  the  sun,  and  escort 
ed  the  young  ladies,  at  night,  to  the  dances  or  parties, 
always  bringing  out  the  smallest  ones.  He  rode  a  high 
headed,  proud-looking  sorrel  horse,  with  a  streak  down 
his  face ;  and  he  was  a  general  referee  and  umpire, 
whether  it  was  a  horse  swap,  a  race,  a  rifle  match,  01 
a  cock  fight. 

C 


34  JONES'  FIGHT. 

It  so  chanced,  on  a  time,  though  Col.  Jones  was  one 
of  the  best-natured  of  men,  that  he  took  umbrage  at 
some  report  circulated  about  him  in  an  adjoining  county 
and  one  of  his  districts,  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been 
a  federalist  during  the  last  war ;  and,  instead  of  rely 
ing  on  the  fact  of  his  being  a  school-boy  on  Mill  Creek 
at  that  time,  he  proclaimed,  at  the  tavern  table,  that 
the  next  time  he  went  over  the  mountain  to  court,  Bill 
Patterson,  the  reputed  author  of  the  slander,  should 
either  sign  a  liebill,  fight,  or  run. 

This  became  narrated  through  the  town, — the  case 
and  argument  of  the  difference  was  discussed  among 
the  patriarchs  of  the  place,  who  generally  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  colonel  had  good  cause  of  quarrel, 
as  more  had  been  said  of  him  than  an  honourable  man 
could  stand.  The  young  store  boys  of  the  village  be 
came  greatly  interested,  conjectured  how  the  fight 
would  go,  and  gave  their  opinions  what  they  would  do 
under  similar  circumstances.  The  young  lawyers,  and 
young  M.  D.'s,  as  often  as  they  were  in  the  colonel's 
company,  introduced  the  subject  of  the  expected  fight. 
On  such  occasions,  the  colonel  spoke  carelessly  and 
banteringly.  Some  good  old  ladies  spoke  deprecating- 
ly,  in  the  general  and  in  the  particular,  that  so  good  and 
clever  a  young  man  as  Colonel  Dick  should  set  so  bad 
an  example;  and  the  young  ladies,  and  little  misses, 
bless  their  dear  little  innocent  souls,  they  only  consulted 
their  own  kind  hearts,  and  were  satisfied  that  he  must 
be  a  wicked  and  bad  man  that  Colonel  Jones  would 
fight. 

Spring  term  of  the  courts  came  on,  and  the  lawyers 


JONES'  FIGHT.  35 

all  started  on  their  circuit,  and,  with  them,  Col.  Jones 
went  over  the  mountain.  The  whole  town  was  alive  to 
the  consequences  of  this  trip,  and  without  much  com 
munion  or  understanding  on  the  subject,  most  of  the 
population  either  gathered  at  the  tavern  at  his  depar 
ture,  or  noticed  it  from  a  distance,  and  he  rode  off,  gaily 
saluting  his  acquaintances,  and  raising  his  hat  to  the 
ladies,  on  both  sides  of  the  street,  as  he  passed  out  of 
town. 

From  that  time,  only  one  subject  engaged  the  thoughts 
of  the  good  people  of  Summerville;  and  on  the  third  day 
the  common  salutation  was,  "  Any  news  from  over  the 
mountain  ?"  "  Has  any  one  come  down  the  road  ?" 
The  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  came,  and  still  the  public 
anxiety  was  unappeased :  it  had,  with  the  delay,  be 
come  insufferable,  quite  agonizing  ;  business  and  occu 
pation  was  at  a  stand  still ;  a  doctor  or  a  constable 
would  not  ride  to  the  country  lest  news  of  the  fight 
might  arrive  in  their  absence.  People  in  crossing  the 
square,  or  entering  or  coming  out  of  their  houses,  all 
had  their  heads  turned  up  that  road.  And  many,  though 
ashamed  to  confess  it,  sat  up  an  hour  or  two  past  their 
usual  bed-time,  hoping  some  one  would  return  from 
court.  Still  all  was  doubt  and  uncertainty.  There  is 
an  unaccountable  perversity  in  these  things  that  bothers 
conjecture.  I  watched  the  road  from  Louisville  two 
days,  to  hear  of  Grey  Eagle  beating  Wagner,  on  which 
T  had  one  hundred  dollars  staked,  of  borrowed  money, 
and  no  one  came ;  though  before  that,  some  person 
passed  every  hour. 

On  the  seventh  morning,  the  uneasy  public  were  con- 
39 


36  JONES'  FIGHT. 

soled  by  the  certainty  that  the  lawyers  must  be  home 
that  day,  as  court  seldom  held  a  week,  and  the  univer 
sal  resolve  seemed  to  be  that  nothing  was  to  be  attend 
ed  to  until  they  were  satisfied  about  the  fight.  Store 
keepers  and  their  clerks,  saddlers,  hatters,  cabinet 
makers,  and  their  apprentices,  all  stood  out  at  the  doors. 
The  hammer  ceased  to  ring  on  the  anvil,  and  the  bar 
keeper  would  scarcely  walk  in  to  put  away  the  stran 
ger's  saddle-bags,  who  had  called  for  breakfast ;  when 
suddenly  a  young  man,  that  had  been  walking  from  one 
side  of  the  street  to  the  other,  in  a  state  of  feverish 
anxiety,  thought  he  saw  dust  away  up  the  road,  and 
stopped.  I  have  been  told  a  man  won  a  wager  in 
Philadelphia,  on  his  collecting  a  crowd  by  staring,  with 
out  speaking,  at  an  opposite  chimney.  So  no  sooner 
was  this  young  man's  point  noticed,  than  there  was  a 
general  reconnoissance  of  the  road  made,  and  before 
long,  doubt  became  certainty,  when  one  of  the  company 
declared  he  knew  the  colonel's  old  sorrel  riding-horse, 
"  General  Jackson,"  by  the  blaze  on  his  face. 

In  the  excited  state  of  the  public  mind  it  required  no 
ringing  of  the  court-house  bell  to  convene  the  people  ; 
those  down  street  walked  up,  and  those  across  the 
square  came  over,  and  all  gathered  gradually  at  the 
Eagle  hotel,  and  nearly  all  were  present  by  the  time 
Col.  Jones  alighted.  He  had  a  pair  of  dark  green 
specks  on,  his  right  hand  in  a  sling,  with  brown  paper 
bound  round  his  wrist ;  his  left  hand  held  the  bridle,  and 
the  forefinger  of  it  wrapped  with  a  linen  rag  "  with 
care.*'  One  of  his  ears  was  covered  with  a  muslin 
scrap,  that  looked  much  like  the  countrywomen's  plan 


JONES'  FIGHT.  37 

of  covering  their  butter  when  coming  to  market ;  his 
face  was  clawed  all  over,  as  if  he  had  had  it  raked  by 
a  cat  held  fast  by  the  tail ;  his  head  was  unshorn,  it 
being  "  too  delicate  an  affair,"  as  *  *  *  said  about 
his  wife's  character.  His  complexion  suggested  an 
idea  to  a  philosophical  young  man  present,  on  which  he 
wrote  a  treatise,  dedicated  to  Arthur  Tappan,  proving 
that  the  negro  was  only  a  white  well  pummelled ;  and 
his  general  swelled  appearance  would  induce  a  belief 
he  had  led  the  forlorn  hope  in  the  storming  of  a  bee 
hive. 

The  colonel's  manner  did  not  exactly  proclaim  "  the 
conquering  hero,"  but  his  affability  was  undiminished, 
and  he  addressed  them  with,  "  Happy  to  see  you,  gents ; 
how  are  you  all?"  and  then  attempted  to  enter  the  ta 
vern  ;  but  Buck  Daily  arrested  him  with,  "  Why,  colo 
nel,  I  see  you  have  had  a  skrimmage.  How  did  you 
make  it !  You  didn't  come  out  at  the  little  eend  of  the 
horn,  did  you  ?"  "  No,  not  exactly,  I  had  a  tight  fit  of 
it,  though.  You  know  Bill  Patterson  ;  he  weighs  one 
hundred  and  seventy-five  pounds,  has  not  an  ounce  of 
superfluous  flesh,  is  as  straight  as  an  Indian,  and  as 
active  as  a  wildcat,  and  as  quick  as  powder,  and  very 
much  of  a  man,  I  assure  you.  Well,  my  word  was  out 
to  lick  him  ;  so  I  hardly  put  up  my  horse  before  I  found 
him  at  the  court-house  door,  and,  to  give  him  a  white 
man's  chance,  I  proposed  alternatives  to  him.  He  said 
his  daddy,  long  ago,  told  him  never  to  give  a  liebill, 
and  he  was  not  good  at  running,  so  he  thought  he  had 
best  fight.  By  the  time  the  word  was  fairly  out.  I  haul 
ed  off,  and  took  him  in  the  burr  of  the  ear  that  raised 


38  JONES'  FIGHT. 

a  singing  in  bis  head,  that  made  him  think  he  was  hi 
Mosquitoe  town.  At  it  we  went,  like  killing  snakes,  so 
good  a  man,  so  good  a  boy  ;  we  had  it  round  and  round, 
and  about  and  about,  as  dead  a  yoke  as  ever  pulled  at 
a  log  chain.  Judge  Mitchell  was  on  the  bench,  and  as 
soon  as  the  cry  of  "  fight"  was  raised,  the  bar  and  jury 
ran  off  and  left  him.  He  shouted,  "  I  command  the 
peace,"  within  the  court-house,  and  then  ran  out  to  see 
the  fight,  and  cried  out,  "I  can't  prevent  you  !"  "  fair 
fight !"  "  stand  back !"  and  he  caught  parson  Benefield 
by  the  collar  of  the  coat,  who,  he  thought,  was  about  to 
interfere,  and  slung  him  on  his  back  at  least  fifteen 
feet. 

"  It  was  the  evenest  and  longest  fight  ever  fought : 
every  body  was  tired  of  it,  and  I  must  admit,  in  truth, 
that  I  was"  (here  he  made  an  effort  to  enter  the  tavern.) 
But  several  voices  called  out,  "  Which  whipped  ?  How 
did  you  come  out?"  "Why,  much  as  I  tell  you  ;  we 
had  it  round  and  round,  about  and  about,  over  and 
under.  I  could  throw  him  at  rastle,  but  he  would  ma 
nage  some  way  to  turn  me.  Old  Sparrowhawk  was 
there,  who  had  seen  all  the  best  fighting  at  Natchez, 
under  the  hill,  in  the  days  of  Dad  Girty  and  Jim  Snod- 
grass,  and  he  says  my  gouging  was  beautiful ;  one  of 
Bill's  eyes  is  like  the  mouth  of  an  old  ink  bottle,  only, 
as  the  fellow  said,  describing  the  jackass  by  the  mule, 
it  is  more  so.  But,  in  fact,  there  was  no  great  choice 
between  us,  as  you  see.  I  look  like  having  ran  into  a 
brush  fence  of  a  dark  night.  So  we  made  it  round  and 
round,  and  about  and  about"  (here  again  he  attempted 
«  retreat  into  the  tavern.)  But  many  voices  demanded, 


•Why,  much  as  I  toll  you;  we  had  it  round  and  round,  about  and  about,  over 
and  under."—  Pagt  38. 


JONES'  FIGHT.  41 

"Who  hollered?"  "Which  gave  up?"  "How  did 
you  hurt  your  hand?"  "  Oh  !  I  forgot  to  tell  you,  that 
as  I  aimed  a  sockdollager  at  him  he  ducked  his  head, 
and  he  can  dodge  like  a  diedapper,  and  hitting  him 
awkwardly,  I  sprained  my  wrist ;  so,  being  like  the  fel 
low  who,  when  it  rained  mush,  had  no  spoon,  I  changed 
the  suit  and  made  a  trump — and  went  in  for  eating. 
In  the  scuffle  we  fell,  cross  and  pile,  and,  while  he  was 
chawing  my  finger,  my  head  was  between  his  legs ;  his 
woollen  jean  britches  did  not  taste  well,  but  I  found  a 
bare  place,  where  the  seat  had  worn  out,  and  meat  in 
abundance  ;  so  I  laid  hold  of  a  good  mouthful,  but  the 
bit  came  out ;  and  finding  his  appetite  still  good  for  my 
finger,  I  adopted  Doctor  Bones',  the  toothsmith's,  patent 
method  of  removing  teeth  without  the  aid  of  instru 
ments,  and  I  extracted  two  of  his  incisors,  and  then  I 
could  put  my  finger  in  or  out  at  pleasure.  However,  1 
shall,  for  some  time,  have  an  excuse  for  wearing  gloves 
without  being  thought  proud."  (He  now  tried  to  escape 
wider  cover  of  a  laugh.)  But  vox  populi  again.  "  So 
you  tanned  him,  did  you  ?"  "  How  did  the  fight  finish  ?" 
"You  were  not  parted?"  "You  fought  it  out,  did 
you  ?"  The  colonel  resumed,  "  Why,  there  is  no  tell 
ing  how  the  fight  might  have  gone ;  an  old  Virginian, 
who  had  seen  Francesco,  and  Otey,  and  Lewis,  and 
Blevins,  and  all  the  best  men  of  the  day,  said  he  had 
never  seen  any  one  stand  up  to  their  fodder  better  than 
we  did.  We  had  fought  round  and  round,  and  about 
and  about,  all  over  the  court-yard,  and,  at  last,  just  to 
end  the  fight,  every  body  was  getting  tired  of  it ;  so, 
at  1 — a — a — st,  I  hollered. — (Exit  colonel.) 


THE 


GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT, 


A  STORY  OF  MICHIGAN — BY  A  NEW  YORKER. 


Among  the  most  promising  young  writers  of  the  day,  is  the  author  of 
a  series  of  sketches  which  have  appeared  within  a  few  years  in  the 
New  York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  purporting  to  have  been  discovered 
among  the  "unfinished  papers  of  the  late  editor  of  the  '  Kalamazoo 
Advocate  and  Journal.' "  The  "  late  editor"  referred  to,  "  went 
crazy"  one  fine  day,  the  reader  is  given  to  understand,  from  the  com 
bined  effects  of  fright,  deep  potations,  and  Tom  Haines — and  was,  in 
consequence,  incapacitated  from  occupying  longer  the  editorial  chair. 

The  following  report  of  "  The  Great  Kalamazoo  Hunt,"  purports  to 
have  been  written  by  one  of  the  late  editor's  "printer's  devils,"  who 
accompanied  his  "boss"  on  the  expedition.  We  must  premise  that 
the  hunt  had  been  for  some  weeks  previously  "  the  town  talk" — that 
those  engaged  in  getting  it  up,  had  met  nightly  at  the  "  doggery"  or 
tavern  of  a  certain  Major  Bristol,  to  "  talk  the  thing  over,"  and  that 
it  was  originally  planned  by  Tom  Haines  and  the  "  late  editor,"  in, 
the  confident  hope  and  expectation  of  enjoying  "  the  tallest  kind  of 
a  spree  1" 

ON  the  morning  of  the  hunt  I  got  out  of  bed  about 
half  an  hour  after  daylight,  and  went  down  into  the 
boss's  office,  or  room,  or  whatever  he  called  it,  to  see  if 
he  was  up ;  but  when  I  came  to  look  round,  blessed  if 
he'd  been  to  hum  all  night.  There  stood  the  bed  just 
as  it  is  in  the  day-time,  looking  as  much  like  a  book 
case  as  it  could,  and  every  thing  else  all  natural.  So 
42 


THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT.        43 

thinks  I  to  myself,  thinks  I,  per'aps  he's  down  to  the 
major's.  Well,  so  down  I  went,  and  there,  sure  enough, 
he  was,  and  about  a  dozen  others,  jist  up.  That  is, 
they  had  jist  rolled  off  the  benches  on  which  they  had 
slept  all  night.  I  tell  you  what,  that  party  did  look 
streaky. 

"  Hallo !"  says  old  Haines  to  the  boss,  "  how  are 
you,  old  fellow?  Pleasant  dreams  last  night,  hey?" 

"  Curse  that  rum  sling — there  was  too  much  sugar 
in  it,  which  leaves  an  unpleasant  taste  in  the  mouth  this 
morning.  How  is't  with  you,  hey  ?" 

"  For 's  sake,"  said  the  boss,  "  don't  croak  so, 

Tom,  don't.  You'll  drive  me  mad  with  your  cursed  din. 
Be  a  Christian  once  in  your  life,  and  just  knock  the 
bar-keeper  up,  and  let's  medicine." 

Well,  old  Haines  was  a  Christian  that  time,  and  after 
all  the  party  had  took  a  drink,  except  the  boss,  for  he 
took  two,  the  first  being  too  sweet,  the  fellows  got  to 
gether  their  shooting  traps,  and  made  ready  to  be  off. 
So  the  boss  he  gets  up  on  a  chair  and  makes  them  a 
speech,  telling  each  one  as  how  he  should  go,  and  says 
he,  "  as  Haines  and  myself  are  about  half  of  each  other, 
I  reckon  we'll  jine,  make  one,  and  go  together  this  time." 
They  all  agreed,  and  started  off,  leaving  the  boss, 
Haines,  an'  me  at  the  major's. 

"  Now,"  said  the  boss,  "  suppose  we  licker  agin,  and 
then  fill  that  case-bottle  up  there," — p'inting  to  one  in 
the  bar — "  and  be  off  too." 

"  Agreed,"  said  old  Haines.  So  I  filled  the  bottle 
with  cider-brandy,  and  off  we  went  for  Long  Swamp. 

There   wasn't   anvthinff   of  particular   account   as 


44        THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT. 

occurred  while  we  were  making  for  the  swamp,  except 
the  boss  would  lag  behind  and  take  a  sly  pull  at  the 
case-bottle,  when  he  thought  old  Haines  wouldn't  see. 
So  all  went  on  very  quiet  until  we  arrived  down  at  the 
north  end.  "  Now,"  says  old  Haines,  "  suppose,  'squire, 
we  drink  fust,  and  load  afterwards  ?" 

"  Exactly,"  said  the  boss. 

So  they  took  a  drink  apiece,  and  old  Haines  went  to 
work  loading  up  his  old  big  bore,  with  as  much  care  as 
a  gal  fixes  herself  when  she  slicks  up.  Well,  after  he 
had  got  the  ball  home,  he  took  a  squint  at  the  priming, 
and  then  you  should  have  heard  how  he  took  on.  I 
swow  to  man,  I  thought  he'd  strike  the  boss.  Some  fel 
low  had  taken  the  powder  out  of  his  horn  and  put  in 
black  sand,  and  that  wasn't  the  worst  of  it,  they  sarved 
the  boss  jist  the  same. 

"What's  to  be  done  now?"  asked  the  boss,  after 
Haines  had  blowed  himself  out. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  know  any  better  way  than 
to  keep  down  the  middle  of  the  swamp  until  we  meet 
with  some  of  the  boys,  get  some  ammunition  of  them, 
and  then  strike  off  on  our  own  account." 

So  we  trarnpoosed  along  down  the  edge  of  the  swamp 
till  we  came  to  a  track,  when  we  turned  in  Ingin  file, 
and  kept  on  about  a  mile  or  so,  climbing  over  stumps, 
wading  through  mud-holes,  tearing  through  cat  briers, 
and  stumbling  among  bogs,  and  at  last  found  ourselves 
in  an  open  piece  about  a  pole  across,  which  was  per 
fectly  dry,  with  two  large  oak  trees  standing  some  ten 
feet  apart. 

"  Hold  on,  Haines,"  says  the  boss,  "  let's  pull  up 


THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT.        45 

here  and  take  some  grub.  You  haint  had  any  break 
fast,  nor  I  neither  ;  so  you  take  that  tree  and  I'll  take 
this,  and  we'll  eat  and  rest  a  bit." 

"  Agreed,"  said  Haines.  "  There  aint  much  use  of 
going  too  fast,  and  we  might  as  well  pull  up  a  bit  here 
as  not.  'Squire,  suppose  we  liquor?" 

Well,  old  Haines  and  the  boss  sat  down,  and  I  fixed 
the  things  for  them,  not  forgetting  to  leave  the  bottle  ; 
and,  thinks  I  to  myself,  I  reckon  I'll  start  on  a  piece 
and  look  after  some  of  the  boys.  So  on  I  goes  for  about 
a  two  or  three  miles,  without  seeing  anything  of  any 
of  them  ;  and  beginning  to  feel  tired,  I  turned  round 
and  put  back  agin.  Well,  when  I  got,  as  I  thought, 
about  where  I  left  the  boss  and  Haines,  I  heard  a  kind 
of  growling  and  rustling,  as  if  there  was  pigs  huntin' 
after  acorns.  Holloa,  says  I  to  myself,  what's  this? 
I'll  jist  peep  in  the  brush  and  see  what  it  is.  So  I 
turns  in  out  of  the  track,  and  by  gosh,  if  there  wasn't 
the  boss  behind  one  tree,  and  old  Haines  behind  an 
other,  each  dodging  a  bear.  Holloa  !  says  I,  this  is 
a  fix  !  What's  to  be  done  now  ?  So  I  hides  behind 
a  thick  ivy  bush,  and  looks  on  a  spell ; — but  I  had  to 
laugh.  There  stood  the  boss  behind  a  tree,  with  his 
legs  one  side  and  his  head  t'other,  and  whenever  the 
bear  would  make  a  pass  at  him  round  one  way,  he 
dodged  round  the  other ;  while  old  Haines  kept  his 
head  a-going  from  one  side  to  the  other,  and  danced 
round  and  back  jist  as  if  he  weighed  one  stone  in  place 
of  eighteen. 

"My  God!"  said  old  Haines  to  the  boss,  when  his 
bear  kept  still  a  moment,  and  gin  him  a  chance  to 


46        THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT. 

breathe — "  if  this  work  keeps  on  much  longer,  curse 
me  if  I  don't  have  to  give  up.  I  can't  stand  it,  by  all 
that's  holy.  Holler,  'Squire,  for  I  can't,  and  see  if  you 
can't  bring  that boy  back." 

"  I  can't  holla,  Haines,  I  can't,"  said  boss,  "  the  ani 
mal  is  so  infernally  bent  on  grabbing  my — (Good  Lord, 
he  liked  to  have  had  me  that  time !) — leg.  Try,  Haines, 
yourself! — do,  there's  a  good  fellow  !  That  animal  af 
ter  you  aint  a  she  one,  and  mine  is — I  know  by  its  being 
so  infernal  artful.  Ugh !  you  bitch !"  said  the  boss, 
shaking  his  fist  at  the  one  as  was  after  him,  as  she  stood 
on  her  hind  legs,  grabbing  at  him  round  the  tree,  with 
her  head  half  way  round,  to  see  exactly  where  he  was. 

"  Can't  we  change  trees?"  asked  Haines,  "  for  I've 
got  tired  running  round  one  way,  and  the  cursed  brute 
won't  alter  the  track." 

"Hey!  hollo!  hey!"  sung  out  the  boss  for  me,  "  ho, 
hoop,  ha  'r  'r  'r,"  and  by  gosh,  while  he  turned  up  his 
eyes  as  if  to  holla  louder,  the  bear  give  him  a  dig  with 
her  paw  in  the  seat  of  his  pantaloons,  and  carried  away 
drawers  and  all.  "Oh!"  said  the  boss,  and  he  put 
one  hand  behind  to  feel  what  damage  was  done,  and 
darted  round  t'other  side  quicker.  "  Curse  me  if  I  keep 
this  position  much  longer,  Haines  !  I'll  take  the  path 
and  make  a  run  for  it !  This  is  playing  bo-peep  with 
a  vengeance !  It's  altogether  too  exciting  to  be  plea 
sant — a pretty  position  for  the  editor  of  the  '  Ad 
vocate  and  Journal'  to  be  placed  in — a  dodging  bears 
round  chestnut  trees !— curse  me  if  I  can  stand  it  any 
longer." 

But  Haines  hadn't  any  time  to  attend  to  what  the 


THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT.        49 

saying,  for  t'other  bear  kept  Lirn  on  the  move, 
so  tk>t  he  was  all  eyes,  and  no  care  for  any  thing  else 
— and  the  t\vo  kept  dodging  and  twisting,  and  heading 
off  each  other  with  great  alertness  and  perseverance. 
"  I  wish  I  had  a  slight  drop  of  something,"  said  the 
boss  to  himself,  for  there  was  no  use  talking  to  Ilaines; 
he  hadn't  time  to  answer.  "I  th:nk  I  could  keep  this 
up  somewhat  longer,  but  without  something  strength 
ening  I  must  knock  under,  that's  a  fact.  No  editor  of 
flesh  and  blood  could  do  it,  and  what's  more,  curse  me 
if  I  do."  He  went  on  getting  wrathy.  "Look  here, 
Ilaines!  I  tell  you  what,  this  can't  last  much  longer 
without  coming  to  some  pass  or  other." 

"  I,  too,  Katey,"  replied  Haines  ;  "  but  may  I  never 
taste  any  thing  stronger  than  water  if  I  don't  think  we've 
come  to  a  pretty  considerable  d— d  pass  already.  Here 
I  am  scouting  round  this  infernal  tree,  first  on  one  side 
then  t'other,  dodging  here  and  there,  headed  off  and 
chased  round,  making  myself  a  cursed  jinny-spinner, 

dry  as ,  and  as  hot  as  thunder,  and  you  yelling  out 

to  me  to  get  you  out  of  jist  sich  a  fix  as  I  am  in  myself. 
Curse  the  bitch,  why  don't  you — ah !  why  don't  you 
mesmerise  her !" 

But  it  wasn't  any  use  for  them  to  get  wrathy — the 
bears  didn't  give  them  time  to  get  in  a  passion,  for  it 
takes  the  boss  and  Haines  ten  minutes  to  fire  up  strong 
when  they  talk  politics  ;  and  as  they  were  just  at  that 
time,  they  didn't  get  a  minute,  even  to  think. 

Well,  after  I  had  looked  out  for  about  fifteen  minutes 
or  so,  and  seed  the  boss  begin  to  get  desperately  fright 
ened,  and  old  Haines  sweating  like  a  pitcher  with  ice- 


50        THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT. 

water  in  it,  and  looking  all-fired  tired,  thinks  I,  I  heard 
a  gun  back  north  some  time  ago  ;  I  guess  I'll  try  and 
hunt  up  that  fellow,  and  get  him  to  come  and  shoot  one 
of  these  varmint,  so  as  to  get  our  boss  out  of  the  scrape. 
So  back  I  went,  and  in  half  an  hour  I  found  old  Bullet 
poking  around  among  a  parcel  of  gorse  and  furze,  look 
ing  after  a  partridge  that  he  had  killed  when  I  heard 
his  gun  go  off;  and  as  soon  as  I  told  him  how  matters 
stood  with  the  boss  and  Haines,  he  loaded  right  up, 
and  started  away  like  a  fire-engine  under  a  full  head  of 
steam,  and  made  tracks  straight  ahead,  without  steer 
ing  clear  of  anything. 

Bullet  drove  on  so  fast,  that  when  we  came  up  to 
where  the  old  'uns  were,  I  was  so  all-fired  blowed  that 
I  hadn't  wind  enough  left  to  laugh.  There  they  was, 
just  as  I  had  left  them,  dodging  and  sliding  round,  and 
the  bears  growling  and  snapping  like  all  natur.  Old 
Haines  had  got  so  warm  that  he  had  pulled  off  his  cra 
vat,  coat,  and  waistcoat,  and  had  unbuttoned  his  shirt 
at  the  neck  and  wristbands,  awaiting  a  chance  to  duck 
his  head  and  get  that  off  too.  I  verily  believe  that,  fat 
as  he  is,  he  did  think  of  climbing  the  tree,  just  to  vary 
the  amusement.  As  for  the  boss,  he  wa*  jerking  his 
head  from  one  side  to  the  other,  just  like  xhat  Dutch 
figure  on  cousin  Sally's  mantel-piece ;  and  I  do  believe 
if  he  had  kept  on  for  about  an  hour  more,  he  wouldn't 
have  had  a  hair  left  on  his  scalp.  He's  a  littlu  Wld  on 
top  as  it  is. 

As  soon  as  we  got  near  enough  I  hollered  out  t*>  old 
Haines,  so  as  he  might  know  there  was  somebody  j»igh 
at  band ;  and  as  soon  as  ever  he  seed  Bullet  with  fci« 


THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT.        51 

gun,  didn't  the  old  fellow  look  glad,  and  for  fear  Bullet 
would  want  to  poke  fun  at  him,  and  keep  him  dodging 
a  little  longer,  you  ought  to  have  heard  him  try  to  peti 
tion  and  pray.  But  it  wouldn't  do  ;  if  ever  he  learnt 
how,  he'd  forgot,  I  reckon,  though  he  never  had  any 
schooling  in  that  line. 

"  Oh,  Bullet,"  says  he,  "if  you  ever  heer'd  minster 
Damenhall  tell  about  the  next  world,  and  you  have  a 
look  to  be  saved,  and — just  think  about  my  da'ter,  to 
hum,  and  the  old  woman  (though  you  needn't  lay  any 
great  stress  on  her  in  particular.)  You  know,  Bullet, 
we  don't  know  where  we  may  go  to.  Oh  !  Lord,  look 
down  on  Bullet — I  mean  the  Squire  and  I — and  give 
us  grace — (why  don't  you  fire,  you  cursed  fool  ?  Do, 
that's  a  good  fellow) — and  the  Squire  will  ever  pray. 
May  we  live  so  as  to  look  forward — (Bullet,  I'll  give 
you  a  pint  of  apple-jack  the  very  minute  I  get  back 
to  the  Major's,  if  you'll  only  fire  quick) — and  may  our 
hearts  be  bound  up  with  grace — (why,  in  the  name  of — , 
don't  you  blow  this  brute's  brains  out,  and  be  cursed 
to  you  ?  I'll  lick  you  like  thunder,  I  will  !)  For  all 
our  past  sins  be  merciful — (I'll  let  you  off  that  quarter 
you  owe  me,  Bullet,) — that  we  may  live  a  godly,  righte 
ous,  and  sober — or  at  least  moderate — life;  preserve 
us,  oh  Lord." 

I  don't  know  whether  the  old  fellow  could  have  gone 
on  any  longer,  but  I  hadn't  a  chance  to  know,  for  Bul 
let,  who  had  got  into  thick  cover,  drew  upon  the  var 
mint,  and  put  a  ball  clean  through  its  head.  The 
other  one  scampered  off  as  soon  as  he  heard  the  report, 
and  was  hunted  up  next  day,  and  killed  by  Bill  Winkle. 


52        THE  GREAT  KALAMAZOO  HUNT. 

The  very  moment  the  boss  and  Haines  found  them 
selves  clear,  down  they  both  dropped,  clean  gone.  The 
boss  fainted,  and  so  would  old  Haines  have  done,  but 
he  couldn't;  and  besides,  he  was  so  busily  engaged  in 
cursing  Bullet,  and  calling  for  a  drink  of  something,  he 
hadn't  time.  We  had  a  bad  time  bringing  the  boss  to, 
and  he  appeared  a  good  deal  flighty  when  we  got  him 
so  as  he  could  walk  home.  As  for  Haines,  he  swore 
he'd  set  two  niggers  to  rubbing  him  down  with  ile,  the 
very  minute  he  got  hum,  or  else  he'd  be  as  stiff  as  a 
spavined  horse  next  day. 

When  we  arrived  in  town  we  all  went  to  the  Major's, 
but  we  couldn't  keep  the  boss  long,  for  he  took  on 
dreadfully.  Some  said  he  was  crazy,  some  said  he  was 
wild  drunk, — the  Major  said  that  he  thought  perhaps 
the  fright  had  slightly  turned  his  brain  ;  whereupon  old 
Haines,  who  was  getting  near  about  considerably  tight, 
said  as  how  that  couldn't  be,  because  the  boss  had  stood 
the  wear,  tear,  and  racket,  when  the  fellow  came  on 
from  York  to  dun  the  boss  for  a  bill  of  paper  as  he 
owed  to  one  in  that  city,  and  said  he,  "  if  he  could  stand 
such  a  cursing  as  that  was,  burn  my  skin  if  all  the  bears 
this  side  of  the  York  line,  and  west  of  the  Rocky  moun 
tains,  would  be  able  to  shake  one  single  nerve  in  his 
whole  body!" 

However,  be  the  cause  what  it  may,  the  boss  is  clean 
gone, — stark  mad, — and  the  schoolmaster  has  had  to 
take  his  place. 

Some  one  of  the  boys,  that  night,  after  hearing  Haines 
tell  the  story  over  about  a  dozen  times,  and  seeing  he 
was  pretty  drunk,  went  straight  down  to  the  Methodist 


THE    GREAT   KALAMAZOO    HUNT.  53 

meeting-house  and  told  the  minister,  who  was  holding 
forth  that  night,  that  the  old  fellow  had  sent  him  to  re 
quest  "  the  prayers  of  the  church  for  his  safe  delivery," 
and  that  as  soon  as  he  got  rested,  he  himself  would 
come  down  and  jine  in  worship,  besides  giving  in  his 
testimony.  The  minister  couldn't  believe  it  at  first,  but 
when  Jim  declared  it  was  truth,  sure,  he  got  right  up 
and  told  the  congregation.  So  they  sets  to  work  praying 
for  the  recovered  sheep,  regenerated  sinner,  and  reco 
vered  outcast  from  the  fold  of  chosen  lambs,  together 
with  many  other  beautiful  names  as  they  give  Haines , 
while  Jim  went  back  to  the  Major's,  and  finding  the 
lamb,  jist  right,  ups  and  tells  him  as  how  he  had  just 
passed  by  the  meeting-house,  and  heard  minister  Da- 
menhall  say  to  the  folks  that  he  didn't  believe  one  word 
of  the  story — that  'twas  an  invention  of  Satan's  put  into 
Haines'  mouth  to  deceive  those  who  were  on  the  road 
to  ruin  through  the  effects  of  liquor ;  and  that  the  quan 
tity  that  Haines  had  induced  the  boss  to  drink  was  the 
sole  cause  of  his  craziness. 

As  soon  as  ever  Haines  heard  this,  he  got  straight 
up  as  he  could,  buttoned  up  his  coat,  and  went  right 
down  to  the  meeting-house  ; — but  what  followed  haint 
got  any  thing  to  do  with  the  late  Hunt  at  Kalamazoo. 


THAT  BIG  DOG  EIGHT 

AT    MYERS'S. 

A     STORY    OF     MISSISSIPPI — BY    A    MISSISSIPPIAN. 


The  writer  of  the  following  story  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining  com 
panions  we  ever  met.  Like  the  elder  Placide,  or  Gabriel  Ravel,  he 
has  the  keenest  perception  of  the  ludicrous  imaginable ;  in  him  this 
is  combined  with  an  inexhaustible  flow  of  spirits,  and  a  rare  fund  of 
wit  and  humour  peculiarly  calculated  to  "  set  the  table  in  a  roar." 
For  several  years  he  has  been  a  most  acceptable  correspondent  of 
the  New  York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  and  while  his  stories  have 
"  ranged  from  amazin  to  onkimmon,"  there  is  not  an  indifferent  one 
among  them  all.  His  extraordinary  merit  as  a  story-teller  is  only 
equalled  by  his  modesty ;  "  not  for  the  world"  would  he  permit  us  to 
name  him.  We  are  free  to  say,  however,  that  he  is  a  country  gen 
tleman  of  Mississippi,  "  of  about  our  size,"  and  that  he  resides  on  a 
river-plantation  nearly  equi-distant  from  the  regions  of  "  the  cotton 
trade  and  sugar  line." 

"  WELL,  them  was  great  times,  and  men  lived  about 
here,  them  days,  too ! — not  sayin'  they're  all  dead,  but 
the  settlements  is  got  too  thick  for  'em  to  splurge,  an' 
they  are  old — beside,  they're  watin'  for  thar  boys  to  do 
somethin'  when  they  gits  men  !  I  tell  you  what,  if  they 
lived  till  kingdom  come  they  wouldn't  be  men.  I'd  like 
to  see  one  single  one  of  'em  that  ever  rid  his  horse  up 
two  pair  of  stairs,  jumpt  him  thru " 

"  Stop,  stop,  Uncle  Johnny  !     Do  tell  us  about  that 
big  dog  fight  at  Myers's." 
54 


THAT   BIG  DOG   FIGHT   AT   MYERSES.  55 

"  Ha,  ha,  boy  !  You  thar  ?  Had  your  bitters  yet  ? 
Well,  well — we'll  take  'em  together  ;  licker  is  better 
now  than  it  used  to  was ;  but  people  don't  drink  so 
much,  and  that's  strange  !  ain't  it  ?  Well,  I  was  talkin' 
to  these  men  about  old  Greensville,  and  about  them 
same  men,  for  they  was  all  at  that  same  dog  fite — Fe- 
atte,  the  Devil !  never  be  a  patchin'  to  what  old  Greens 
ville  was  about  the  times  'Old  CoV  was  sheriff!  I'll 
just  bet  all  the  licker  I  ever  expect  to  drink,  that  thar 
ain't  no  second  story  in  Featte  that's  got  hoss  tracks 
on  the  floor  and  up  agin'  the  ceil " 

"  I  must  stop  you  again,  Uncle  Johnny ;  Fayette  is 
yet  in  its  youth,  and  promises " 

"  Youth,  H — 1 !  yes,  like  the  youth  of  some  of  my  old 
friends'  sons — upwards  of  thirty,  an'  they're  expectin' 
to  make  men  out'n  'em  yet !  I  tell  you  what,  young  men 
in  my  time'd  just  get  in  a  spree,  sorter  open  thar  shirt 
collars,  and  shuck  tharselves  with  a  growl,  and  come 
out  reddy-made  men  ;  and  most  on  'em  has  staid  reddy 
for  fifty-one  year !  I  ain't  failed  now,  yet,  and " 

"  Uncle  Johnny,  for  God's  sake  stick  to  the  dog  story : 
we'll  hear  all  this  after " 

"  Ah,  you  boy,  you  never  will  let  me  tell  a  story  my 
way,  but  here  goes: — Let  me  see — yes,  yes.  Well,  it 
was  a  grate  dog  in  Greensville,  anyhow — Charly  Cox 
had  run  old  Saltrum  agin'  a  hoss  from  the  Red-licks, 
and  beat  him  shameful — Run  rite  plum  up  the  street  in 
Greensville  so  as  evry  body  mite  see.  Well,  a  power 
of  licker  was  wasted — nily  evry  house  in  town  rid  thru 
— women  and  children  skeared  out,  and  evry  drink  we 
took  was  a  ginral  invite,  and  about  night  thar  was  one 
40 


56  THAT  BIG   DOG   FIGHT 

ginral  in  town — Ginral  Intoxication.  Well,  'bout  sun 
down  the  old  Ginral — God  bless  him  ! — called  up  his 
troops ;  some  of  the  same  ones  who  was  at  Orleans ; 
let's  see — thar  was  the  high  sheriff,  Dick,  Bat,  Jim,  old 
Iron  Tooth,  an ' " 

"  Iron  Tooth !"  who'se  he  ?"  suggested  I. 

"  Why,  he's  the  man  what  fit  the  dog !  Ain't  you 
never  seen  a  man  here  in  Featte,  when  he  gits  high  up, 
just  pulls  out  his  knife,  and  goes  to  chawin'  it  as  if  he'd 
made  a  bet  he  could  bite  it  in  two  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  go  on." 

"  Well,  the  Ginral  made  'em  all  mount,  formed  line, 
and  rid  rite  into  the  grocery — formed  line  agin,  had  a 
big  stir-up  drink  handed  to  'em  all,  and  when  the  Ginral 
raised  his  hat  and  said  '  the  Hero  of  Orleans,'  the  yell 
that  went  up,  put  a  bead  on  that  man's  licker  that  staid 
uily  a  month,  I  hearn.  We  come  a  rarin'  out'n  the 
grocery — charged  up  and  down  two  or  three  times, 
cleared  the  streets  of  all  weak  things,  then  started 
out  home,  all  in  a  brest  j  evry  one  of  us  had  a  Polk 
stalk " 

"  Hel-lo  !— Polk  stalks  that  early  ?" 

"Well,  well,  Hickry  sticks — same  thing — out  of 
town  we  went,  chargin'  evry  thing  we  see — fences,  cat 
tle,  ox-teams ;  and  at  last  we  got  to  old  Myers's,  farly 
squeelin'  to  rar  over  somethin' !  Old  Myers's  dog  was 
awful  bad — the  worst  in  anybody's  nolledge — why,  peo 
ple  sent  fifty  miles  to  git  pups  from  him !  Well,  he 
come  a  chargin',  too,  and  met  us  at  the  gate,  lookin' 
like  a  young  hyena.  Iron  Tooth  just  turned  himself 
round  to  us,  and  says  he,  '  Men,  I'll  take  this  fite  off'n 


And  thar  stood  the  dog  with  the  awfullest  countenance  you  ever  seen  a  dog  ware.' 

Page  57. 


AT  MYERS'S.  57 

your  hands ;'  so  down  he  got,  ondressed  to  his  shirt, 
stock,  and  boots — got  down  on  his  all-fours  in  the  road, 
walkin'  backards  and  forards,  pitchin'  up  the  dust  and 
bellerin'  like  a  bull !  When  the  dog  see  him  at  that 
sort  of  work,  he  did  sorter  stop  barkin',  but  soon  as  he 
see  our  animal  strut  up  to  the  gate  and  begin  to  smell, 
then,  like  another  dog,  he  got  fairly  crazy  to  git  thru  at 
him  ;  rarin',  cavortin',  and  tarin1  off  pickets  !  Our  ani 
mal  was  a  takin'  all  this  quite  easy — smellin'  thru  at  him, 
whinin'  me-you,  me-you,  me-you — struttin'  backards  and 
forards,  histin'  up  one  leg  agin  the  gate  Well,  after  a 
while  the  dog  begin  to  git  sorter  tired,  and  then  our  ani 
mal  begin  to  git  mad !  snap  for  snap  he  gin  the  dog,  and 
the  spit  and  slobber  flew,  and  soon  the  dog  was  worse 
than  he  had  been.  Thar  we  was  settin'  on  our  hoses, 
rollin'  with  laughin'  and  licker,  and  thought  the  thing  was 
rich,  as  it  was ;  but  just  then,  our  animal  riz  on  his 
hinders,  onlatched  the  gate,  and  the  dog  lunged  for  him. 
Ain't  you  never  noticed  when  one  dog  bounces  at  ano 
ther,  he  sorter  whirls  round  sideways,  to  keep  him  from 
hittin'  him  a  fair  lick?  Well,  jist  so  our  animal:  he 
whirled  round  sideways  to  let  the  dog  have  a  glancin' 
lick,  and  true  to  the  caracter,  he  was  goin'  to  allow  the 
dog  a  dog's  chance,  and  he  stuck  to  his  all-fours.  The 
dog  didn't  make  but  one  lunge,  and  he  stopt — as  still 
as  the  picter  of  the  wolf  in  the  spellin'  book — for  you 
see  our  animal  was  right  starn  end  facin'  him,  his  shirt 
smartly  up  over  his  back,  and  standin'  mity  high  up  on 
his  hind  legs  at  that !  We  all  raised  the  old  Indian  yell 
for  you  never  did  see  sich  a  site,  and  thar  stood  the  dog 
with  the  awfullest  countenance  you  ever  seen  a  dog 


68  THAT  BIG   DOG   FIGHT 

ware !  Our  man,  sorter  thinkin'  he'd  bluffed  the  dog, 
now  give  two  or  three  short  goat-pitches  backards  at 
him!  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  What  did  he  do  ?" 
"  Do  ?  why  run  !  wouldn't  a  d — d  hyena  run  !  The 
dog  had  a  big  block  and  chain  to  him,  and  soon  our 
animal  was  arter  him,  givin'  some  of  the  awfullest  leaps 
and  yelps — 'twarnt  but  a  little  squar  picket  yard  round 
the  house,  and  the  dog  couldn't  git  out,  so  round  and 
round  he  went — at  last,  turnin'  a  corner  the  chain  rapt 
round  a  stump,  and  thar  the  dog  was  fast,  and  he  had 
tofite!  But  he  did  give  powerful  licks  to  get  loose! 
When  he  see  his  inemy  right  on  him  agin,  and  when 
Iron  Tooth  seen  the  dog  was  fast,  round  and  round  he'd 
strut ;  and  sich  struttin  !  Ain't  you  never  seen  one  of 
these  big,  long-legged,  short-tailed  baboons  struttin' 
round  on  the  top  of  the  lion's  cage  ?  Well,  so  he'd  go 
— sorter  smellin'  at  the  dog  (and  his  tongue  hanging  out 
right  smart,  for  he  was  tired,)  me-you  !  me-you  !  Snap  ! 
snap  !  the  dog  would  go,  and  he  begin  to  show  fite  d — d 
plain  agin,  for  our  varmint  was  a  facin'  him,  and  he 
seen  "'twas  a  man  arter  all !  But  our  animal  knovv'd 
how  to  come  the  giraffe  over  him — so  round  he  turns 
and  gives  him  the  starn  view  agin  !  That  farly  broke 
the  dog's  hart,  and  he  jist  rared  back  a  pullin'  and  got 
loose  !  One  or  two  goat-pitches  backards  and  the  dog 
was  flat  on  his  back,  playin'  his  fore-paws  mity  fast,  and 
perhaps  some  of  the  awfullest  barks  you  ever  hearn  a 
dog  gin !  Old  Iron  Tooth  he  seen  he  had  the  dog  at 
about  the  rite  pint,  and  he  give  one  mortal  lunge  back 
ards,  and  he  lit  with  both  hands  on  the  dog's  throat, 


AT  MYERS'S.  61 

turned  quick  as  lightnin',  div  down  his  head,  and  fast 
ened  his  teeth  on  the  dog's  ears  !  Sieh  a  shakin'  and 
hovvlin' !  The  dog  was  too  skeared  to  fite,  and  our 
animal  had  it  all  his  own  way.  We  hollered  to  '  give 
him  some  in  the  short  ribs,'  but  he  only  held  on  and 
growled  at  us,  playin'  the  dog  clean  out,  I  tell  you. 
Well,  thar  they  was,  rollin'  and  tumblin'  in  the  dirt — 
first  one  on  top,  and  then  tother — our  animal  holdin'  on 
like  pitch  to  a  waggin  wheel,  the  dog  never  thinkin' 
'bout  fitein'  once,  but  makin'  rale  onest  licks  to  git 
loose.  At  last  our  varmint's  hold  broke — the  dog  riz 
— made  one  tiger  lunge — the  chain  snapt — he  tucked  hi* 
tail,  and — and — but  you  all  know  what  skeared  dogs 
will  do ! 

"  Nobody  ain't  never  got  no  pups  from  Myers  since 
— the  blood  run  rite  out !" 


HOW  SIMON   SUGGS 

"RAISED   JACK." 

A.    GEORGIA    STORY BY    AN    ALABAMIAN. 


L  is  a  great  pity  that  gentlemen  of  such  sterling  intellectual  ability  as 
the  writer  of  the  subjoined  sketch,  should  hide  their  light  under  a 
bushel.  We  merely  know  of  him  that  he  is  a  young  lawyer  of  re 
pute,  Johnson  J.  Hooper  by  name,  and  editor,  en  amateur,  of  "  The 
East  Alabamian,'1  published  at  La  Fayette,  in  that  state.  His  well 
written  editorial  articles  are  mainly  confined  to  political  themes,  and 
it  is  only  at  rare  intervals  that  he  indulges  his  readers  with  sketches 
like  the  one  annexed — thrown  off,  probably,  at  a  heat.  What  a 
"  choice  spirit"  he  would  be  in  that  circle  of  "jolly  good  fellows" 
whose  contributions  to  the  "Spirit  of  the  Times"  have  rendered  that 
journal  far  more  famous  for  original  wit  and  humour,  than  its  being 
the  "  Chronicle  of  the  Sporting  World." 

Hooper  has  recently  commenced  in  "  The  East  Alabamian"  a  series 
of  sketches,  detailing  the  history,  adventures,  and  operations  of  one 
Simon  Suggs,  late  Captain  of  the  Tallapoosa  Volunteers,  whom  he 
introduces  with  an  exordium  as  ornate,  graphic,  and  fanciful,  as  Mr. 
Wirt's  on  the  occasion  of  the  trial  of  Aaron  Burr.  We  propose  here 
— for  like  many  other  entertaining  things  the  Captain's  history  is  yet 
unwritten — to  give  the  reader  an  account  only  of  those  exploits  of  his 
at  the  early  age  of  seventeen  (when  his  ingenuity  and  shrewdness 
began  first  to  attract  attention.)  which  subsequently  acquired  for  him 
the  epithet  of  "Shifty," — his  whole  ethical  system  happening  to  lie 
snugly  in  his  favourite  aphorism  that  "  it  is  good  to  be  a  SHIFTY  man  in 
a  new  country."  The  following  characteristic  anecdote  is  given  as 
one  of  the  earliest  specimens  of  the  Captain's  'cuteness,  and  will 
serve  to  illustrate  the  precocious  development  of  his  peculiar  talent. 

UNTIL  Simon  entered  his  seventeenth  year,  he  lived 
with  his  father,  an  old  '  hard-shell'  Baptist  preacher  j 
62 


HOW   SIMON   SUGGS   "RAISED   JACK."  63 

who,  though  very  pious  and  remarkably  austere,  was 
very  avaricious.  The  old  man  reared  his  boys — or 
endeavoured  to  do  so — according  to  the  strictest  requi 
sition  of  the  moral  law.  But  he  lived,  at  the  time  to 
which  we  refer,  in  Middle  Georgia,  which  was  then 
newly  settled ;  and  Simon,  whose  wits  from  the  time 
lie  was  a  "  shirt-tail  boy,"  were  always  too  sharp  for 
his  father's,  contrived  to  contract  all  the  coarse  vices 
incident  to  such  a  region.  He  stole  his  mother's  roost 
ers  to  fight  them  at  Bob  Smith's  grocery,  and  his 
father's  plough-horses  to  enter  them  in  "quarter" 
matches  at  the  same  place.  He  pitched  dollars  with 
Bob  Smith  himself,  and  could  "  beat  him  into  doll 
rags"  whenever  it  came  to  a  measurement.  To  crown 
his  accomplishment,  Simon  was  tip-top  at  the  game  of 
"  old  sledge,"  which  was  the  fashionable  game  of  that 
era ;  and  was  early  initiated  in  the  mystery  of  "  stocking 
the  papers."  The  vicious  habits  of  Simon  were,  of 
course,  a  sore  trouble  to  his  father,  Elder  Jedediah. 
He  reasoned,  he  counselled,  he  remonstrated,  he  lash 
ed — but  Simon  was  an  incorrigible,  irreclaimable  devil. 

One  day  the  simple-minded  old  man  came  rather 
unexpectedly  to  the  field  where  he  had  left  Simon  and 
Ben,  and  a  negro  boy  named  Bill,  at  work.  Ben  was 
still  following  his  plough,  but  Simon  and  Bill  were  in 
a  fence-corner  very  earnestly  engaged  at  "  seven  up." 
Of  course  the  game  was  instantly  suspended,  as  soon 
as  they  spied  the  old  man  sixty  or  seventy  yards  off, 
striding  towards  them. 

It  was  evidently  a  "  gone  case"  with  Simon  and 
Bill ;  but  our  hero  determined  to  make  the  best  of  it. 


64  HOW    SIMON    SUGGS 

Putting  the  cards  into  one  pocket,  he  coolly  picked  up 
the  small  coins  which  constituted  the  stake,  and  fobhed 
them  in  the  other,  remarking,  "  Well,  Bill,  this  game's 
blocked  ;  we'd  as  well  quit." 

"  But,  massa  Simon,"  remarked  the  boy,  "  half  dat 
money's  mine.  An't  you  gwine  to  lemme  hab  'em?" 

"  Oh  never  mind  the  money,  Bill ;  the  old  man's 
going  to  take  the  bark  off  of  both  of  us — and  besides, 
with  the  hand  I  helt  when  we  quit,  I  should  'a  beat  you 
and  won  it  all  any  way." 

"  Well,  but,  massa  Simon,  we  nebber  finish  de  game, 
and  de  rule" 

"  Go  to  an  orful  h — 1  with  your  rule,"  said  the  im 
patient  Simon — "don't  you  see  daddy's  right  down  upon 
us,  with  an  armful  of  hickories  ?  I  tell  you  I  hilt 
nothin'  but  trumps,  and  could  'a  beat  the  horns  off  of 
a  billy-goat.  Don't  that  satisfy  you?  Somehow  or 
nother  you'r  d — d  hard  to  please  !"  About  this  time  a 
thought  struck  Simon,  and  in  a  low  tone — for  by  this 
time  the  Reverend  Jedediah  was  close  at  hand — he  con 
tinued,  "  but  may  be  daddy  don't  know,  right  down  sure, 
what  we've  been  doin'.  Let's  try  him  with  a  lie — twon't 
hurt  no  way — let's  tell  him  we've  been  playin'  mumble- 

Peg-" 

Bill  was  perforce  compelled  to  submit  to  this  in 
equitable  adjustment  of  his  claim  of  a  share  of  the 
stakes  ;  and  of  course  agreed  to  the  game  of  mumble- 
peg.  All  this  was  settled  and  a  peg  driven  in  the 
ground,  slyly  and  hurriedly  between  Simon's  legs  as 
ne  sat  on  the  ground,  just  as  the  old  man  reached  the 
spot.  He  carried  under  his  left  arm  several  neatly- 


"  RAISED   JACK."  65 

trimmed  sprouts  of  formidable  length,  while  in  his  left 
hand  he  held  one  which  he  was  intently  engaged  in 
divesting  of  its  superfluous  twigs. 

"  Soho  !  youngsters  ! — you  in  the  fence-corner,  and 
the  crop  in  the  grass  !  what  saith  the  Scriptur',  Simon? 
'  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,'  and  so  forth  and  so  on. 
What  in  the  round  creation  of  the  yearth  have  you  and 
that  nigger  been  a-doin'  ?" 

Bill  shook  with  fear,  but  Simon  was  cool  as  a  cucum 
ber,  and  answered  his  father  to  the  effect  that  they  had 
been  wasting  a  little  time  in  a  game  of  mumble-peg. 

"  Mumble-peg !  mumble-peg  !"  repeated  old  Mr. 
Suggs,  "  what's  that  ?" 

Simon  explained  the  process  of  rooting  for  the  peg ; 
how  the  operator  got  upon  his  knees,  keeping  his  arms 
stiff  by  his  side,  leaned  forward  and  extracted  the  peg 
with  his  teeth. 

"  So  you  git  upon  your  knees,  do  you,  to  pull  up  that 
nasty  little  stick !  you'd  better  git  upon  'em  to  ask 
mercy  for  your  sinful  souls,  and  for  a  dyin'  world.  But 
lei's  see  one  o'  you  git  the  peg  up  now." 

The  first  impulse  of  our  hero  was  to  volunteer  to 
gratify  the  curiosity  of  his  worthy  sire,  but  a  glance  at 
the  old  man's  countenance  changed  his  "  notion,"  and 
he  remarked  that  "  Bill  was  a  long  ways  the  best  hand." 
Bill,  who  did  not  deem  Simon's  modesty  an  omen  fa 
vourable  to  himself,  was  inclined  to  reciprocate  com 
pliments  with  his  young  master ;  but  a  gesture  of  im 
patience  from  the  old  man  set  him  instantly  upon  his 
knees  ;  and,  bending  forward,  he  essayed  to  lay  hold 
with  his  teeth,  of  the  peg,  which  Simon,  just  at  that 


66  HOW    SIM  ON    SUGGS 

moment,  very  wickedly  pushed  half  an  inch  further 
down.  Just  as  the  breeches  and  hide  of  the  boy  were 
stretched  to  the  uttermost,  old  Mr.  Suggs  brought  down 
his  longest  hickory,  with  both  hands,  upon  the  precise 
spot  where  the  tension  was  greatest.  With  a  loud  yell, 
Bill  plunged  forward,  upsetting  Simon,  and  rolled  in  the 
grass,  rubbing  the  castigated  part  with  fearful  energy. 
Simon,  though  overthrown,  was  unhurt ;  and  he  was 
mentally  complimenting  himself  upon  the  sagacity 
which  had  prevented  his  illustrating  the  game  of  mum 
ble-peg,  for  the  paternal  amusement,  when  his  attention 
was  arrested  by  that  worthy  person's  stooping  to  pick 
up  something — what  is  it  ? — a  card  upon  which  Simon 
had  been  sitting,  and  which,  therefore,  had  not  gone 
with  the  rest  of  the  pack  into  his  pocket.  The  simple 
Mr.  Suggs  had  only  a  vague  idea  of  the  pasteboard 
abomination  called  cards  ;  and  though  he  decidedly  in 
clined  to  the  opinion  that  this  was  one,  he  was  by  no 
means  certain  of  the  fact.  Had  Simon  known  this,  he 
would  certainly  have  escaped ;  but  he  did  not.  His 
father,  assuming  the  look  of  extreme  sapiency  which  is 
always  worn  by  the  interrogator  who  does  not  desire  01 
expect  to  increase  his  knowledge  by  his  questions,  asked, 

"  What's  this,  Simon  ?" 

"  The  Jack  a-dimunts,"  promptly  responded  Simon, 
who  gave  up  all  as  lost  after  this  faux  pas. 

"What  was  it  doin'  down  thar,  Simon,  my  sonny?" 
continued  Mr.  Suggs,  in  an  ironically  affectionate  tone* 
of  voice. 

"  I  had  it  under  my  leg  thar,  to  make  it  on  Bill,  the 
first  time  it  come  trumps,"  was  the  ready  reply. 


1  So  you  git  upon  your  knees,  do  you,  to  pull  up  that  nasty  little  stick ;  you'd  better 
git  upon  'em  to  ask  mercy  for  your  sinful  souls,  and  for  a  dyin'  world." — Page  65. 


"RAISED  JACK."  69 

"What's  trumps?"  asked  Mr.  Suggs,  with  a  view 
of  arriving  at  the  import  of  the  word. 

"  Nothin'  a'nt  trumps  now,"  said  Simon,  who  misap 
prehended  his  father's  meaning — "  but  clubs  was,  when 
you  come  along  and  busted  up  the  game." 

A  part  of  this  answer  was  Greek  to  the  Reverend 
Mr.  Suggs,  but  a  portion  of  it  was  full  of  meaning. 
They  had,  then,  most  unquestionably  been  "  throwing" 
cards,  the  scoundrels  !  the  "  oudacious"  little  hellions  ! 

"  To  the  '  Mulberry,'  with  both  on  ye  !  in  a  hurry," 
said  the  old  man,  sternly.  But  the  lads  were  not  dis» 
posed  to  be  in  a  "  hurry,"  for  "  the  Mulberry"  was  the 
scene  of  all  formal  punishment  administered  during 
work  hours  in  the  field.  Simon  followed  his  father, 
however ;  but  made,  as  he  went  along,  all  manner  of 
"  faces"  at  the  old  man's  back ;  gesticulated  as  if  he 
were  going  to  strike  him  between  the  shoulders  with 
his  fists  ;  and  kicking  at  him  so  as  almost  to  touch  his 
coat  tail  with  his  shoe.  In  this  style  they  walked  on  to 
the  mulberry  tree,  in  whose  shade  Simon's  brother  Ben 
was  resting. 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that,  during  the  walk  to  the 
place  of  punishment,  Simon's  mind  was  either  inactive, 
or  engaged  in  suggesting  the  grimaces  and  contortions 
wherewith  he  was  pantomimically  expressing  his  irre 
verent  sentiments  towards  his  father.  Far  from  it. 
The  movements  of  his  limbs  and  features  were  the 
mere  workings  of  habit — the  self-grinding  of  the  cor 
poreal  machine — for  which  his  reasoning  half  was  only 
remotely  responsible.  For  while  Simon's  person  was 
thus,  on  its  own  account,  "  making  game"  of  old  Jede- 


50  HOW    SIMON    SUGGS 

diah,  his  wits,  in  view  of  the  anticipated  flogging,  were 
dashing,  springing,  bounding,  darting  about,  in  hot 
chase  of  some  expedient  suitable  to  the  necessities  of 
the  case — much  after  the  manner  in  which  puss,  wbei* 
'  Betty,  armed  with  the  broom,  and  hotly  seeking  ven 
geance  for  the  pantry  robbed  or  room  defiled,  has  closed 
upon  her  the  garret  doors  and  windows,  attempts  all 
sorts  of  impossible  exits,  comes  down  at  last  in  the 
corner,  with  panting  side  and  glaring  eye,  exhausted 
and  defenceless.  Our  unfortunate  hero  could  devise 
nothing  by  which  he  could  reasonably  expect  to  escape 
the  heavy  blows  of  his  father.  Having  arrived  at  this 
conclusion  and  the  "  Mulberry"  about  the  same  time, 
he  stood  with  a  dogged  look,  awaiting  the  issue. 

The  old  man  Suggs  made  no  remark  to  any  one 
while  he  was  seizing  up  Bill — a  process  which,  though 
by  no  means  novel  to  Simon,  seemed  to  excite  in  him 
a  sort  of  painful  interest.  He  watched  it  closely,  as  if 
to  learn  the  precise  fashion  of  his  father's  knot ;  and 
when  at  last  Bill  was  strung  up  a-tiptoe  to  a  limb,  and 
the  whipping  commenced,  Simon's  eye  followed  every 
movement  of  his  father's  arm ;  and  as  each  blow  de 
scended  upon  the  bare  shoulders  of  his  sable  friend,  his 
own  body  writhed  and  "  wriggled"  in  involuntary  sym 
pathy. 

"  It's  the  devil ! — it's  hell,"  said  Simon  to  himself, 
"  to  take  such  a  wallopin'  as  that.  Why  the  old  man 
looks  like  he  wants  to  git  to  the  holler,  if  he  could — rot 
his  picter !  It's  wuth,  at  the  least,  fifty  cents — je-e- 
miny,  how  that  hurt ! — yes,  it's  wuth  three-quarters  of 
a  dollar,  to  take  that  'ere  lickin'  !  Wonder  if  I'm 


"RAISED  JACK."  71 

'  predestinated,'  as  old  Jed'diah  says,  to  get  the  fellei 
to  it  ?  Lord,  how  daddy  blows  !  I  do  wish  to  God  he'd 
bust  right  open,  the  darn'd  old  deer-face  !  If  'twa'n't 
for  Ben  helpin'  him,  I  b'lieve  I'd  give  the  old  dog  a 
tussel  when  it  comes  for  my  turn.  It  couldn't  make 
the  thing  no  wuss,  if  it  didn't  make  it  no  better.  'Drot 
it !  what  do  boys  have  daddies  for,  any  how  ?  'Taint 
for  nuthin'  but  jist  to  beat  'em  and  work  'em. — There's 
some  use  in  mammies — I  kin  poke  my  finger  right  in 
the  old  'oman's  eye,  and  keep  it  thar,  and  if  I  say  it 
aint  thar,  she'll  say  'taint  thar,  too.  I  wish  she  was 
here  to  hold  daddy  off.  If  'twa'n't  so  fur,  I'd  holler 
for  her,  any  how.  How  she  would  cling  to  the  old  fel 
ler's  coat  tail!" 

Mr.  Jedediah  Suggs  let  down  Bill,  and  untied  him. 
Approaching  Simon,  whose  coat  was  off,  "Come,  Si 
mon,  son,"  said  he,  "  cross  them  hands,  I'm  gwine  to 
correct  you." 

"  It  aint  no  use,  daddy,"  said  Simon. 

"  Why  so,  Simon  ?" 

"Just  bekase  it  aint.  I'm  gwine  to  play  cards  as 
long  as  I  live.  When  I  go  off  to  myself,  I'm  gwine  to 
make  my  livin'  by  it.  So  what's  the  use  of  beatin'  me 
about  it  ?" 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  groaned,  as  he  was  wont  to  do  in  the 
pulpit,  at  this  display  of  Simon's  viciousness. 

"  Simon,"  said  he,  "  you're  a  poor  ignunt  creetur. 
You  don't  know  nothin'  and  you've  never  been  no  whars 
If  I  was  to  turn  you  off,  you'd  starve  in  a  week" — 

"I  wish  you'd  try  me,"  said  Simon,  "and  jist  see 
I'd  win  more  money  in  a  week  than  you  can  make  in 


7Z  HOW   SIMON   SUGGS 

a  year. — There  aint  nobody  round  here  kin  make  seed 
corn  off  o'  me  at  cards.  I'm  rale  smart,"  he  added, 
with  great  emphasis. 

"  Simon  !  Simon  !  you  poor  unletered  fool.     Don't 
you  know  that  all  card-players  and  chicken-fighters, 
and  horse-racers,  go  to  hell  ?    You  crack-brained  crea 
tur'  you.     And  don't  you  know  that  them  that  play 
cards  always  lose  their  money,  and" — 

"  Who  wins  it  all  then,  daddy  ?"  asked  Simon. 

"  Shet  your  mouth,  you  imperdent,  slack-jaw'd  dog. 
Your  daddy's  a-tryin'  to  give  you  some  good  advice, 
and  you  a-pickin'  up  his  words  that  way.  I  know'd  a 
young  man  once,  when  I  lived  in  Ogletharp,  as  went 
down  to  Augusty  and  sold  a  hundred  dollars'  worth  of 
cotton  for  his  daddy,  and  some  o'  them  gambollers  got 
him  to  drinkin',  and  the  very  first  night  he  was  with  'em 
they  got  every  cent  of  his  money." 

" They  couldn't  git  my  money  in  a  week"  said  Si 
mon.  "  Any  body  can  git  these  here  green  fellows' 
money ;  them's  the  sort  I'm  a-gwine  to  watch  for,  my 
self.  Here's  what  kin  fix  the  papers  jist  about  as  nice 
as  any  body." 

"  Well,  it's  no  use  to  argify  about  the  matter,"  said 
old  Jedediah ;  "  What  saith  the  scriptur'  ?  '  He  that  be- 
getteth  a  fool,  doeth  it  to  his  sorrow.'  Hence,  Simon, 
you're  a  poor,  miserable  fool ! — so,  cross  your  hands!" 

"  You'd  jist  as  well  not,  daddy.  I  tell  you  I'm  gwine 
to  follow  playin'  cards  for  a  livin',  and  what's  the  use 
o'  bangin'  a  feller  about  it  ?  I'm  as  smart  as  any  of 
'em,  and  Bob  Smith  says  them  Augusty  fellers  can't 
make  rent  off*  o'  me." 


"RAISED  JACK."  73 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Suggs  had,  once  in  his  life,  gone 
to  Augusta  ;  an  extent  of  travel  which  in  those  days 
was  a  little  unusual.  His  consideration  among  his  neigh 
bours  was  considerably  increased  by  the  circumstance, 
as  he  had  all  the  benefit  of  the  popular  inference,  that 
no  man  could  visit  the  city  of  Augusta  without  acquir 
ing  a  vast  superiority  over  all  his  untravelled  neigh 
bours,  in  every  department  of  human  knowledge.  Mr. 
Suggs,  then,  very  naturally  felt  ineffably  indignant  that 
an  individual  who  had  never  seen  a  collection  of  human 
habitations  larger  than  a  log-house  village — an  indivi 
dual,  in  short,  no  other  or  better  than  Bob  Smith — 
should  venture  to  express  an  opinion  concerning  the 
manners,  customs,  or  any  thing  else  appertaining  to, 
or  in  any  wise  connected  with,  the  ultima  thvle  of 
back-woods  Georgians.  There  were  two  propositions 
which  witnessed  their  own  truth  to  the  mind  of  Mr. 
Suggs — the  one  was,  that  a  man  who  had  never  been 
at  Augusta,  could  not  know  any  thing  about  that  city, 
or  any  place  or  thing  else ;  the  other,  that  one  who  had 
been  there  must,  of  necessity,  be  not  only  well  inform 
ed  as  to  all  things  connected  with  the  city  itself,  but 
perfectly  au  fait  upon  all  subjects  whatsoever.  It  was 
therefore  in  a  tone  of  mingled  indignation  and  con 
tempt  that  he  replied  to  the  last  remark  of  Simon. 

"  Bob  Smith  says — does  he  ?  And  who's  Bob  Smith'? 
Much  does  Bob  Smith  know  about  Augusty !  he's  been 
thar,  I  reckon !  Slipped  off  yarly  some  mornin'  when 
nobody  warn't  noticin',  and  got  back  afore  night .  It's 
only  a  hundred  and  fifty  mile.  Oh  yes,  Bob  Smith 

knows  all  about  it !  /  don't  know  nothin'  about  U  !     J 

E 


74  HOW   SIMON   SUGGS 

a'n't  never  been  to  Augusty — /  couldn't  find  the  road 
thar,  I  reckon,  ha !  ha !  Bob — Smi — ih  !  The  eternal 
stink !  if  he  was  only  to  see  one  o'  them  fine  gentle 
men  in  Augusty,  with  his  fine  broad-cloth  and  bell- 
crown  hat,  and  shoe-boots  a-shinin'  like  silver,  he'd  take 
to  the  woods  and  kill  himself  a-runnin'.  Bob  Smith ! 
that's  whar  all  your  devilment  comes  from,  Simon." 

"  Bob  Smith's  as  good  as  any  body  else,  I  judge ; 
and  a  heap  smarter  than  some.  He  showed  me  how 
to  cut  Jack,"  continued  Simon,  "  and  that's  more  than 
some  people  can  do  if  they  have  been  to  Augusty." 

"  If  Bob  Smith  kin  do  it,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  kin 
too.  I  don't  know  it  by  that  name ;  but  if  it's  book 
knowledge  or  plain  sense,  and  Bob  kin  do  it,  it's  rea 
sonable  to  s'pose  that  old  Jed'diah  Suggs  won't  be 
bothered  bad.  Is  it  any  ways  similyar  to  the  rule 
of  three,  Simon?" 

"  Pretty  much,  daddy,  but  not  adzactly,"  said  Si 
mon,  drawing  a  pack  from  his  pocket  to  explain. — 
"  Now  daddy,"  he  proceeded,  "  you  see  these  here  four 
cards  is  what  we  call  the  Jacks.  Well,  now,  the  idee 
is,  if  you'll  take  the  pack  and  mix  'em  all  up  together, 
I'll  take  off  a  passel  from  top,  and  the  bottom  one  of 
them  I  take  off  will  be  one  of  the  Jacks." 

"  Me  to  mix  em  fust  ?"  said  Jedediah. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  you  not  to  see  but  the  back  of  the  top  one, 
when  you  go  to  '  cut,'  as  you  call  it  ?" 

"  Jist  so,  daddy." 

"  And  the  backs  all  jist  as  like  as  kin  be  ?"  said  the 
senior  Suggs,  examining  the  cards 


"RAISED  JACK."  75 

"  More  like  nor  cow-peas,"  said  Simon. 

"  It  can't  be  done,  Simon,"  observed  the  old  man, 
with  great  solemnity. 

"  Bob  Smith  kin  do  it,  and  so  kin  I." 

"  It's  agin  nater,  Simon ;  thar  a'n't  a  man  in  Au- 
gusty,  nor  on  the  top  of  the  yearth,  that  kin  do  it !" 

"Daddy,"  said  our  hero,  "ef  you'll  bet  me" 

"What!"  thundered  old  Mr.  Suggs,  "bet,  did  you 
say?"  and  he  came  down  with  a  scorer  across  Simon's 
shoulders — "me,  Jed'diah  Suggs,  that's  been  in  the 
Lord's  sarvice  these  twenty  years — me  bet,  you  nasty, 
sassy,  triflin',  ugly" — 

"  I  didn't  go  to  say  that,  daddy ;  that  warn't  what  I 
ment,  adzactly.  I  ment  to  say  that  ef  you'd  let  me  off 
from  this  here  maulin'  you  owe  me,  and  give  me  '  Bunch' 
ef  I  cut  Jack,  I'd  give  you  all  this  here  silver,  ef  I  did'nt 
— that's  all.  To  be  sure,  I  allers  knowd  you  wouldn't 
bet." 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  ascertained  the  exact  amount  of  the 
silver  which  his  son  handed  him,  in  an  old  leathern 
pouch,  for  inspection.  He  also,  mentally,  compared 
that  sum  with  an  imaginary  one,  the  supposed  value  of 
a  certain  Indian  pony,  called  "  Bunch,"  which  he  had 
bought  for  his  "old  woman's"  Sunday  riding,  and 
which  had  sent  the  old  lady  into  a  fence-corner,  the 
first — and  only — time  she  had  ever  mounted  him.  As 
he  weighed  the  pouch  of  silver  in  his  hand,  Mr.  Suggs 
also  endeavoured  to  analyze  the  character  of  the  trans 
action  proposed  by  Simon.  "  It  sartinly  can't  be  nothin' 
but  giviri1,  no  way  it  kin  be  twisted,"  he  murmured  to 
himself.  "  I  know  he  can't  do  it,  so  there's  no  resk. 
41 


76  HOW   SIMON   SUGGS 

What  makes  bettin'?  The  resk.  It's  a  one-sided 
business,  and  I'll  jist  let  him  give  me  all  his  money, 
and  that'll  put  all  his  wild  sportin'  notions  out  of  his 
head." 

"  Will  you  stand  it,  daddy  ?"  asked  Simon,  by  way 
of  waking  the  old  man  up.  "  You  mought  as  well,  for 
the  whippin'  won't  do  you  no  good ;  and  as  for  Bunch, 
nobody  about  the  plantation  won't  ride  him,  but  me." 

"  Simon,"  replied  the  old  man,  "  I  agree  to  it.  Your 
old  daddy  is  in  a  close  place  about  payin'  for  his  land ; 
and  this  here  money — it's  jist  eleven  dollars,  lacking  of 
twenty-five  cents — will  help  out  mightily.  But  mind, 
Simon,  ef  any  thing's  said  about  this,  hereafter,  re 
member,  you  give  me  the  money." 

"  Very  well,  daddy,  and  ef  the  thing  works  up  instid 
o'  down,  I  'spose  we'll  say  you  give  me  Bunch— eh  ?" 

"  You  won't  never  be  troubled  to  tell  how  you  come 
by  Bunch ;  the  thing's  agin  natur,  and  can't  be  done. 
What  old  Jed'diah  Suggs  knows,  he  knows  as  good  as 
anybody.  Give  me  them  fixaments,  Simon." 

Our  hero  handed  the  cards  to  his  father,  who,  drop 
ping  the  plough-line  with  which  he  had  intended  to  tie 
Simon's  hands,  turned  his  back  to  that  individual,  in 
order  to  prevent  his  witnessing  the  operation  of  mixing. 
He  then  sat  down,  and  very  leisurely  commenced  shuf 
fling  the  cards,  making,  however,  an  exceedingly  awk 
ward  job  of  it.  Restive  kings  and  queens  jumped  from 
his  hands,  or  obstinately  refused  to  slide  into  the  com 
pany  of  the  rest  of  the  pack.  Occasionally,  a  sprightly 
knave  would  insist  on  facing  his  neighbour ;  or,  press 
ing  his  edge  against  another's,  half  double  himself  up, 


"RAISED  JACK."  77 

and  then  skip  away.  But  Elder  Jedediah  perseveringly 
continued  his  attempts  to  subdue  the  refractory,  while 
heavy  drops  burst  from  his  forehead,  and  ran  down  his 
cheeks.  All  of  a  sudden,  an  idea,  quick  and  penetrat 
ing  as  a  rifle-ball,  seemed  to  have  entered  the  cranium 
of  the  old  man.  He  chuckled  audibly.  The  devil  had 
suggested  to  Mr.  Suggs  an  impromptu  "  stock,"  which 
would  place  the  chances  of  Simon — already  sufficiently 
slim  in  the  old  man's  opinion — without  the  range  of 
possibility.  Mr.  Suggs  forthwith  proceeded  to  cull  out 
all  the  picter  cards — so  as  to  be  certain  to  include  the 
jacks — and  place  them  at  the  bottom  ;  with  the  evident 
intention  of  keeping  Simon's  fingers  above  these  when 
he  should  cut.  Our  hero,  who  was  quietly  looking  over 
his  father's  shoulders  all  the  time,  did  not  seem  alarmed 
by  this  disposition  of  the  cards ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
smiled  as  if  he  felt  perfectly  confident  of  success,  in 
spite  of  it. 

"  Now,  daddy,"  said  Simon,  when  his  father  had 
announced  himself  ready,  "  narry  one  of  us  aint  got  to 
look  at  the  cards,  while  I'm  a  cuttin' ;  if  we  do,  it'll 
spile  the  conjuration." 

"  Very  well." 

"  And  another  thing — you've  got  to  look  me  right 
dead  in  the  eye,  daddy — will  you  ?" 

"  To  be  sure — to  be  sure,"  said  Mr.  Suggs  ;  "  fire 
away." 

Simon  walked  up  close  to  his  father,  and  placed  his 
hand  on  the  pack.  Old  Mr.  Suggs  looked  in  Simon's 
eye,  and  Simon  returned  the  look  for  about  three 
seconds,  during  which  a  close  observer  might  have 


78  HOW   SIMON    SUGGS 

detected  a  suspicious  working  of  the  wrist  of  the  hand 
on  the  cards,  but  the  elder  Suggs  did  not  remark  it. 

"  Wake  snakes !  day's  a  breakin' !  Rise  Jack !"  said 
Simon,  cutting  half  a  dozen  cards  from  the  top  of  the 
pack,  and  presenting  the  face  of  the  bottom  one  for  the 
inspection  of  his  father. 

It  was  the  Jack  of  Hearts ! 

Old  Mr.  Suggs  staggered  back  several  steps,  with 
uplifted  eyes  and  hands  ! 

"  Marciful  master !"  he  exclaimed,  "  ef  the  boy  haint ! 

well,  how  in  the  round  creation  of  the !  Ben  did 

you  ever !  to  be  sure  and  sartin,  Satan  has  power  on 
this  yearth!"  and  Mr.  Suggs  groaned  in  heavy  bitter 
ness. 

"  You  never  seed  nothin'  like  that  in  Augusty,  did 
ye,  daddy  ?"  asked  Simon,  with  a  malicious  wink  at  Ben. 

"  Simon,  how  did  you  do  it  ?"  queried  the  old  man, 
without  noticing  his  son's  question. 

"Do  it,  daddy?  Do  it?  'Taint  nothin'.  I  done  it 
jest  as  easy  as — shootin'." 

Whether  this  explanation  was  entirely,  or  in  any 
degree,  satisfactory  to  the  perplexed  mind  of  the  elder 
Jedediah  Suggs,  cannot,  after  the  lapse  of  time  which 
has  intervened,  be  sufficiently  ascertained.  It  is  cer 
tain,  however,  that  he  pressed  the  investigation  no  far 
ther,  but  merely  requested  his  son  Benjamin  to  witness 
the  fact  that,  in  consideration  of  his  love  and  affection 
for  his  son  Simon,  and  in  order  to  furnish  the  donee 
with  the  means  of  leaving  that  portion  of  the  state  of 
Georgia,  ne  bestowed  upon  him  the  impracticable  poney, 
"  Bunch.' 


"RAISED  JACK."  79 

"Jist  so,  daddy;  jist  so;  I'll  witness  that.  But  it 
'minds  me  mightily  of  the  way  mammy  give  old  Trailler 
the  side  of  bacon,  last  week.  She  was  a-sweepin'  up  the 
hath — the  meat  on  the  table ;  old  Trailler  jumps  up, 
gathers  the  bacon  and  darts ;  mammy  arter  him  with 
the  broomstick  as  fur  as  the  door,  but  seein'  the  dog  has 
got  the  start,  she  shakes  the  stick  at  him,  and  hollers, 
'  You  sassy  aig-sukkin',  roguish,  gnatty,  flop-eared  var 
mint,  take  it  along,  take  it  along !  I  only  wish  'twas 
full  of  a'snic  and  ox  vomit  and  blue  vitrul,  so  as  t'would 
cut  your  intrils  into  chitlins !'  That's  about  the  way  you 
give  Bunch  to  Simon." 

It  was  evident  to  our  hero  that  his  father  intended 
he  should  remain  but  one  more  night  beneath  the  pa 
ternal  roof.  What  mattered  it  to  Simon? 

He  went  home  at  night,  curried  and  fed  Bunch; 
whispered  confidentially  in  his  ear,  that  he  was  the 
"fastest  piece  of  hoss-flesh,  accordin'  to  size,  that  ever 
shaded  the  y earth  ;"  and  then  busied  himself  in  prepar 
ing  for  an  early  start  on  the  morrow. 


SWALLOWING  AN  OYSTER  ALIVE, 

A  STORY  OF  ILLINOIS BY  A  MISSOURIAN. 


We  should  hate  to  bet  "  Straws"  that  J.  M.  Field,  the  principal  editor 
of  the  St.  Louis  "  Reville,"  was  not  the  writer  of  the  following  story. 
Unlike  his  late  brother  "  Poor  Mat" — better  known  as  "  Phazma"— 
who  recently  died  at  sea,  our  friend  "  Joe"  is  full  of  fun  and  frolic, 
and  ready  to  "  go  at  any  thing  in  the  ring — from  pitch-and-toss  to 
manslaughter  !"  When  he  became  an  editor  by  profession,  the  stage 
sustained  a  material  loss.  He  was  indeed  one  of  "  the  best  actors  in 
the  world,  either  for  tragedy,  comedy,  history,  pastoral,  pastoral- 
comical,  historical-pastoral,  tragical-historical,  tragical-comical-his 
torical-pastoral,  scene  undividable,  or  poem  unlimited."  For  several 
years  he  has  been  a  contributor  to  the  periodical  press  ;  but  quite  re 
cently  he  has  embarked  in  the  enterprise  of  a  new  daily  journal  at 
St.  Louis,  which  appears  to  have  succeeded  almost  beyond  his  hopes. 
The  annexed  sketch  is  "  a  taste  of  the  quality"  of  the  "  Revill6" 
and  himself. 

AT  a  late  hour,  the  other  night,  the  door  of  an  oyster 
house  in  our  city  was  thrust  open,  and  in  stalked  a  hero 
from  the  Sucker  state.  He  was  quite  six  feet  high, 
spare,  somewhat  stooped,  with  a  hungry,  anxious  coun 
tenance,  and  his  hands  pushed  clear  down  to  the  bot 
tom  of  his  breeches  pockets.  His  outer  covering  was 
hard  to  define,  but  after  surveying  it  minutely,  we 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  suit  had  been  made  in 
his  boyhood,  of  a  dingy  yellow  linsey-wolsey,  and  that, 
having  sprouted  up  with  astonishing  rapidity,  he  had 
80 


SWALLOWING   AN   OYSTER   ALIVE.  81 

been  forced  to  piece  it  out  with  all  colours,  in  order  to 
keep  pace  with  his  body.  In  spite  of  his  exertions, 
however,  he  had  fallen  in  arrears  about  a  foot  of  the 
necessary  length,  and,  consequently,  stuck  that  far 
through  his  inexpressibles.  His  crop  of  hair  was  sur 
mounted  by  the  funniest  little  seal-skin  cap  imaginable. 
After  taking  a  position,  he  indulged  in  a  long  stare  at 
the  man  opening  the  bivalves,  and  slowly  ejaculated — 
"  isters  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  responded  the  attentive  operator, — "  and 
fine  ones  they  are,  too." 

"  Well,  I've  heard  of  isters  afore,"  says  he,  "  but 
this  is  the  fust  time  I've  seed  'm,  and  pre-haps  I'll  know 
what  thar  made  of  afore  I  git  out  of  town. 

Having  expressed  this  desperate  intention,  he  cau 
tiously  approached  the  plate  and  scrutinized  the  un 
cased  shell-fish  with  a  gravity  and  interest  which  would 
have  done  honour  to  the  most  illustrious  searcher  into 
the  hidden  mysteries  of  nature.  At  length  he  began  to 
soliloquize  on  the  difficulty  of  getting  them  out,  and 
how  queer  they  looked  when  out. 

"I  never  seed  any  thin'  hold  on  so — takes  an  amazin' 
site  of  screwin,  hoss,  to  get  'em  out,  and  aint  they  slick 
and  slip'ry  when  they  does  come  ?  Smooth  as  an  eel ! 
I've  a  good  mind  to  "give  that  feller  lodgin',  jist  to 
realize  the  effects,  as  uncle  Jess  used  to  say  about 
speckalation." 

"  Well,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "  down  with  two  bits, 
and  you  can  have  a  dozen." 

"Two  bits!"  exclaimed  the  Sucker,  "now  come 
that's  stickin'  it  on  rite  strong,  hoss,  for  isters.    A  dozen 


82  SWALLOWING   AN   OYSTER   ALIVE. 

on  'em  aint  nothin'  to  a  chicken,  and  there's  no  gettin' 
more'n  a  picayune  a  piece  for  them.  I've  only  realized 
forty-five  picayunes  on  my  first  ventur'  to  St.  Louis. 
I'll  tell  you  what,  I'll  gin  you  two  chickens  for  a  dozen, 
if  you'll  conclude  to  deal." 

A  wag,  who  was  standing  by  indulging  in  a  dozen, 
winked  to  the  attendant  to  shell  out,  and  the  offer  was 
accepted. 

"  Now  mind,"  repeated  the  Sucker,  "  all  fair — two 
chickens  for  a  dozen — you're  a  witness,  mister,"  turn 
ing  at  the  same  time  to  the  wag ;  "  none  of  your  tricks, 
for  I've  heard  that  your  city  fellers  are  mity  slip'ry 
coons." 

The  bargain  being  fairly  understood,  our  Sucker 
squared  himself  for  the  onset ;  deliberately  put  off  his 
seal-skin,  tucked  up  his  sleeves,  and,  fork  in  hand, 
awaited  the  appearance  of  No.  1.  It  came — he  saw — 
and  quickly  it  was  bolted  !  A  moment's  dreadful  pause 
ensued.  The  wag  dropped  his  knife  and  fork  with  a 
look  of  mingled  amazement  and  horror — something 
akin  to  Shakspeare's  Hamlet  on  seeing  his  daddy's 
ghost — while  he  burst  into  the  exclamation — 

"  Swallowed  alive,  as  I'm  a  Christian!" 

Our  Sucker  hero  had  opened  his  mouth  with  pleasure 
a  moment  before,  but  now  it  stood  open.  Fear — a 
horrid  dread  of  he  didn't  know  what — a  consciousness 
that  all  was'nt  right,  and  ignorant  of  the  extent  of  the 
wrong — the  uncertainty  of  the  moment  was  terrible. 
Urged  to  desperation,  he  faultered  out — 

"  What  on  earth's  the  row?" 

"  Did  you  swallow  it  alive  ?"  inquired  the  wag. 


"0  gracious! — what'll  I  do! — it's  got  hold  of  my  innards  already,  and  I'm  dead  M 
a  chicken !— do  somethin'  for  me,  do — don't  let  the  internal  sea-toad  eat  me  afore 
your  eyes." — Page  85. 


SWALLOWING  AN  OYSTER  ALIVE.       85 

"I  swallowed  it  jest  as  he  gin  it  to  me  !"  shouted  the 
Sucker. 

"  You're  a  dead  man  !"  exclaimed  his  anxious  friend, 
"  the  creature  is  alive,  and  will  eat  right  through  you," 
added  he,  in  a  most  hopeless  tone. 

"Get  a  pizen  pump  and  pump  it  out!"  screamed 
the  Sucker,  in  a  frenzy,  his  eyes  fairly  starting  from 
their  sockets.  "  O  gracious  ! — what'ill  I  do  ? — It's  got 
holds  of  my  innards  already,  and  I'm  dead  as  a  chick 
en  ! — do  somethin'  for  me,  do— don't  let  the  infernal 
sea-toad  eat  me  afore  your  eyes." 

"  Why  don't  you  put  some  of  this  on  it  ?"  inquired 
the  wag,  pointing  to  a  bottle  of  strong  pepper-sauce. 

The  hint  was  enough — the  Sucker,  upon  the  instant, 
seized  the  bottle,  and  desperately  wrenching  out  the 
cork,  swallowed  half  the  contents  at  a  draught.  He 
fairly  squealed  from  its  effects,  and  gasped  and  blowed, 
and  pitched,  and  twisted,  as  if  it  were  coursing  through 
him  with  electric  effect,  while  at  the  same  time  his 
eyes  ran  a  stream  of  tears.  At  length  becoming  a  lit 
tle  composed,  his  waggish  adviser  approached,  almost 
bursting  with  suppressed  laughter,  and  inquired, — 

"  How  are  you  now  old  fellow — did  you  kill  it  ?" 

"  Well,  I  did,  hoss' — ugh,  ugh  o-o-o  my  inards.  If 
that  ister  critter's  dyin'  agonies  didn't  stir  a  'ruption 
in  me  equal  to  a  small  arthquake,  then  'taint  no  use 
sayin'  it — it  squirmed  like  a  sarpent,  when  that  killin' 
stuff  touched  it;  hu' — and  here  with  a  countenance 
made  up  of  suppressed  agony  and  present  determina 
tion,  he  paused  to  give  force  to  his  words,  and  slowly 


86  SWALLOWING   AN   OYSTER   ALIVE. 

and  deliberately  remarked,  "If  you  git  two  chickens 
from  me  for  that  live  animal,  I'm  d — d!"  and  seizing 
his  seal-skin  he  vanished. 

The  shout  of  laughter,  and  the  contortions  of  the 
company  at  this  finale,  would  have  made  a  spectator 
believe  that  they  had  all  been  swallowing  oysters  alive. 


A  TEXAN  JOKER 

"IN    A    TIGHT    PLACE." 


Some  three  or  four  years  since  there  was  a  newspaper  published  in  the 
city  of  Houston,  yclept  "  The  Texas  Morning  Star."  To  the  best 
of  our  knowledge  and  belief  we  have  neither  seen  it  nor  its  editor, 
but  we  would  walk  five  miles  to  shake  hands  with  the  writer  of  the 
following  sketch  of "  Aquatic  Scenery."  As  Kendall,  the  well 
known  co-editor  of  the  New-Orleans  "  Picayune"  was  in  Texas  at 
the  time,  making  arrangements  for  the  Santa  Fe  Expedition,  we 
should  be  willing  to  take  long  odds  he  could  tell  us  somthing  about 
its  authorship. 

DURING  the  utmost  severity  of  the  late  storm  we 
took  a  lounge  down  to  the  steamboat  landing.  While 
standing  on  the  brink  of  a  deep  gully  that  emptied  its 
torrent  of  water  into  the  bayou,  our  attention  was  at 
tracted  to  the  bottom  of  the  gully,  where  a  drunken 
loafer  was  stemming  the  torrent,  holding  on  to  a  root 
fast  anchored  in  the  bank.  The  poor  fellow,  not  know 
ing  any  on'e  was  near  him,  was  combating  his  fate 
manfully,  and  in  calculating  his  chance  of  escape,  gave 
utterance  to  the  following  : — 

"  Haynt  this  a  orful  sitivation  to  be  placed  in,  nohow? 
If  I  wos  a  steamboat,  a  rail,  or  a  woodpile,  I'd  be 
better  worth  fifty  cents  on  the  dollar  than  I'll  ever  be 
agin.  Unless  I'm  a  gone  case  now,  there  haynt  no 

87 


88  A   fcEXAN   JOKER 

truth  in  frenology.  I've  weighed  all  the  chances  now 
like  a  gineral,  and  find  only  two  that  bears  in  my  fa 
vour  ;  the  first  is  a  skunk-hole  to  crawl  into,  and  the 
second  a  special  interpersition  of  Providence  ;  and  the 
best  chance  of  the  two  is  so  slim,  if  I  only  had  the 
change,  I'd  give  a  premium  for  the  skunk-hole — them's 
my  sentiments.  If  I  could  be  a  mink,  a  muskrat,  or  a 
water  snake  for  about  two  months,  prehaps  I  wouldn't 
mount  the  first  stump  t'other  side  of  the  Bio,  and  flap 
my  wings,  and  crow  over  everlastin'  life,  scientifically 
preservated.  But  what's  the  use  holdin'  on  this  root  ? 
there  haynt  no  skunk  hole  in  these  'ere  diggins;  the 
water  is  gitting  taller  about  a  feet,  and  if  my  nose  was 
as  long  as  kingdom  come,  it  wouldn't  stick  out  much 
longer.  Oh,  Jerry  !  Jerry  !  you're  a  gone  sucker,  and 
I  guess  your  marm  don't  know  you're  out ;  poor  wo 
man  !  won't  she  cry  the  glasses  out  of  her  spectacles 
when  she  hears  her  darlin'  Jerry  has  got  the  whole  of 
Bufferlo  Bio  for  his  coffin  ?  What  a  pity  'tis  some 
philanthropis,  or  member  of  the  humane  society,  never 
had  foresight  enough  to  build  a  house  over  this  gutter, 
with  a  steam  engine  to  keep  out  the  water !  If  they'd 
done  it  in  time,  they  might  have  had  the  honour  and 
gratification  of  saving  the  life  of  a  feller  being  ;  but  it's 
all  day  with  you,  Jerry,  and  a  big  harbour  to  cast  an 
chor  in.  It's  too  bad  to  go  off  in  this  orful  manner, 
when  they  knows  I  oilers  hated  water  ever  since  I  was 
big  enough  to  know  'twant  whiskey.  I  feel  the  root 
givin'  way,  and  since  I  don't  know  a  prayer,  here's  a 
bit  of  Watts'  Doxologer,  to  prove  I  died  a  Christian: — 


"IN   A   TIGHT   PLACE."  89 

" '  On  the  bank  where  droop'd  the  wilier, 
Long  time  ago/  " 

Before  Jerry  got  to  the  conclusion,  he  was  washed 
into  the  bayou,  within  a  few  feet  of  a  large  flat  that  had 
iust  started  for  the  steamboat ;  his  eye  caught  the 
prospect  of  deliverance,  and  he  changed  the  burden  of 
his  dirge  into  a  thrilling  cry  of"  Heave  to  !  passenger 
overboard  and  sinkin',  with  a  belt  full  of  specie  !  the 
man  what  saves  me  makes  his  fortin!"  Jerry  was 
fished  up  by  a  darkey !  and  to  show  his  gratitude,  in 
vited  Quashey  "  to  go  up  to  the  doggery  and  liquor." 


BILLY  WAHRICK'S 

COURTSHIP  AND  WEDDING, 

A  STORY  OF  "THE  OLD  NORTH  STATE" — BY  A  COUNTY  COURT  LAWYER. 


Within  a  hundred  miles  of  Fayetteville,  North  Carolina,  resides  one  of 
the  most  eminent  members  of  the  bar  the  "Tar  River  country"  boasts 
of.  Further,  of  his  identity,  "this  deponent  saith  not."  Those  who 
have  lingered  over  "  A  Trip  to  County  Court,  by  a  North  Carolina 
Lawyer,"  which  has  gone  the  rounds  of  the  press,  will  be  somewhat 
surprised  to  learn  that  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times"  was  indebted  to  the 
same  pen  for  that  masterly  sketch,  and  the  following  amusing  story. 


CHAPTER   I. 
CK    IN    DISTRESS. 
PINEY  BOTTOM,  in  Old  North  State,  Jinuary  this  4,  1844. 

MR.  PORTER — SIR  : — Bein'  in  grate  distrest,  I  didn't 
inow  what  to  do,  till  one  of  the  lawyers  councilled  me 
to  tell  you  all  about  it,  and  git  your  apinion.  You  see 
I  are  a  bin  sparkin'  over  to  one  of  our  nabors  a  cortin 
of  Miss  Barbry  Bass,  nigh  upon  these  six  munse.  So 
t'other  nite  I  puts  on  my  stork  that  cum  up  so  high  that 
I  look'd  like  our  Kurnel  paradin  of  the  milertary  on 
Ginral  Muster,  tryin'  to  look  over  old  Snap's  years — 
he  holds  sich  a  high  hed  when  he  knows  that  he's  got 
on  his  holdsturs  and  pistuls  and  his  trowsen  and  sich 
90 


BILLY  WARRICK'S  COURTSHIP.  91 

like,  for  he's  a  mity  proud  hoss.  I  had  on  a  linun  shurt 
koller  starched  stif  that  cum  up  monstrus  high  rite  un 
der  my  years,  so  that  evry  time  I  turn'd  my  hed  it  putty 
nigh  savv'd  off  my  years,  and  they  are  so  sore  that  I 
had  to  put  on  sum  Gray's  intment,  which  dravv'd  so 
hard,  that  if  I  hadn't  wash'd  it  in  sopesuds  I  do  bleve 
it  would  a  draw'd  out  my  branes.  I  put  on  my  new 
briches  that  is  new  fashon'd  and  opens  down  before, 
and  it  tuck  me  nigh  on  a  quarter  of  a  houre  to  butten 
em,  and  they  had  straps  so  tite  I  could  hardly  bend  my 
kneas — I  had  on  my  new  wastecoat  and  a  dicky  bus- 
sam  with  ruffles  on  each  side,  and  my  white  hat.  I 
had  to  be  perticlar  nice  in  spittin'  my  terbaccer  juce, 
for  my  stork  were  so  high  I  had  to  jerk  back  my  head 
like  you  have  seed  one  of  them  Snapjack  bugs.  Con- 
sidrin'  my  wiskurs  hadn't  grow'd  out  long  enuff,  as  I 
were  conceety  to  think  that  I  look'd  middlin'  peart,  and 
my  old  nigger  'oman  Venus  said  I  look'd  nice  enuff  for 
a  Bryde. 

It  tuck  one  bale  of  good  cotting  and  six  bushils  of 
peese  to  pay  for  my  close.  Dod  drot  it,  it  went  sorter 
hard ;  but  when  I  tho't  how  putty  she  did  look  last 
singin'  school  day, — with  her  eyes  as  blue  as  indiger, 
and  her  teath  white  as  milk,  and  sich  long  curlin'  hare 
hanjrin'  clear  down  to  her  belt  ribbun,  and  sich  butiful 

O 

rosy  cheaks,  and  lips  as  red  as  a  cock  Red-burd  in  snow 
time,  and  how  she  squeased  my  hand  when  I  gin  her  a 
oringe  that  I  gin  six  cents  for — I  didn't  grudge  the 
price. 

Mr.  Porter — when  I  got  to  old  Miss  Basses  bars, 
jist  after  nite,  sich  streaks  and  cold  fits  cum  over  me 


92  BILLY  WARRICK'S 

\vorse  than  a  feller  with  the  Buck  agur,  the  furst  time 
he  goes  to  shute  at  a  dear.  My  kneas  got  to  trimblin', 
and  I  could  hardly  holler  "get  out"  to  Miss  Basses  son 
Siah's  Dog,  old  Troup,  who  didn't  know  mo  in  my  new 
geer,  and  cum  out  like  all  creashun  a  barkin'  amazin'. 
Ses  I  to  myself,  ses  I,  what  a  fool  you  is — and  then  I 
thort  what  Squire  Britt's  nigger  man  Tony,  who  went 
to  town  last  week,  told  me  about  a  taler  there,  who  sed 
that  jist  as  soon  he  got  thru  a  makin'  a  sute  of  close 
for  a  member  of  assembly  to  go  to  Rawley  in,  he 
'spected  to  come  out  a  cortin'  of  Miss  Barbry.  This 
sorter  rased  my  dander — for  he's  shockin'  likely,  with 
black  wiskurs  'cept  he's  nock-nead — with  his  hare  all 
comded  to  one  side  like  the  Chapel  Hill  boys  and  law 
yers.  Then  I  went  in,  and  after  howdy'ing  and  shakin' 
hands,  and  sorter  squeasin'  of  Barbry's,  I  sot  down. 
There  was  old  Miss  Bass,  Barbry  and  Siah  Bass,  her 
brother,  a  monstrus  hand  at  possums — old  Kurnel 
Hard,  a  goin  to  cort  and  stopp'd  short  to  rite  old  Miss 
Basses  will,  with  Squire  Britt  and  one  of  the  nabors  to 
witness  it  all  rite  and  strate.  This  kinder  shock'd  me 
— till  Kurnel  Hard,  a  mighty  perlite  man,  sed  ses  he, 
"  Mr.  Warrick,  you  are  a  lookin'  oncommon  smart." 
"Yes,"  ses  I,  "Kurnel,  (a  sorter  cuttin'  my  eye  at 
Barbry)  middlin'  well  in  body — but  in  mind" — "  Ah,  I 
see,"  ses  he,  (cuttin'  of  my  discoorse)  "  I  understand 
that  you  are" — (Mr.  Porter,  I  forget  the  Dixonary 
words  he  sed — but  it  were  that  I  were  in  love.  If  you 
could  have  s-eed  my  face  and  felt  it  burne,  you  would  a 
tho't  that  you  had  the  billyous  fever — and  as  for  Bar 
bry,  now  want  she  red  as  a  turkey  cock's  gills — and 


"  Then  she  tuck  up  her  pipe  and  went  to  smokin' — the  way  she  rowl'd  the  «mok» 

out  was  astonwhin'."— Pa0«  93. 


COURTSHIP   AND   WEDDING.  93 

she  gump'd  up  and  said,  "Ma'am,"  and  run  outer  the 
room,  tho'  nobody  on  yearth  that  I  heerd  on  called  her 
— and  then  I  heerd  Polly  Cox — 'drot  her  pictur  ! — who 
is  hired  to  weeve — a  sniggrin  at  me.  Arter  a  while, 
Squire  Britt  and  the  nabor  went  off— and  Siah  ho  went 
a  Coonin'  of  it  with  his  dogs,  but  driv  old  Troup  back, 
for  he's  deth  on  Rabbits — and  old  Miss  Bass  went  out, 
and  Kurnal  Hard,  arter  taken  a  drink  outen  his  cheer 
box,  he  got  behin'  the  door  and  shuck'd  himself  and 
got  into  one  of  the  beds  in  the  fur  eend  of  the  room. 
Arter  a  while,  old  Miss  Bass  cum  back,  and  sot  in  the 
chimbly  corner  and  tuck  off  her  shoes — and  then  tuck 
up  her  pipe  and  went  to  smokin' — the  way  she  rowl'd 
the  smoke  out  was  astonishin' — and  evry  now  and  then 
she  struck  her  head  and  sorter  gron'd  like — what  it 
were  at  I  don't  know,  'cept  she  were  bother'd  'bout  her 
consarns — or  thinkin'  bout  her  will  which  she  had  jist 
sined.  Bimeby  Barbry  cum  back,  and  sot  on  a  cheer 
clost  by  me.  She  was  a  workin'  of  a  border  that  look 
ed  mity  fine.  Ses  I,  "  Miss  Barbry,  what  is  that  that 
you're  seamstring  so  plagy  putty?"  Ses  she,  " it  teent 
nothin'." — Up  hollered  old  Miss  Bass,  "  Why,"  ses  she, 
"  Mr.  Warrick,  it's  a  nite  cap,  and  what  on  the  Lord's 
yearth  young  peple  now  a  days  works  and  laces  and 
befrils  nite  caps  fur  /  can't  tell — it  beets  me — bediz- 
inin'  out  their  heads  when  they're  gwain  to  bed,  just  as 
if  any  body  but  their  own  peple  seed  'em ;  and  there's 
young  men  with  wiskurs  on  there  upper  lip,  and  briches 
upenin'  before — it  want  so  in  my  day — but  young  peo 
ple's  got  no  sense — bless  the  Lord — oh-me" — "  Lord 
mammy,"  ses  Barbry,  "  do  hush."  Ses  old  Miss  Bass, 
42 


94  BILLY  WARRICK'S 

"  I  shaant — for  its  the  nat'ral  truth."  I  sorter  look'd 
at  my  briches — and  Mr.  Porter,  I  were  struck  into  a 
heap — for  if  two  of  my  buttons  want  loose,  so  that  one 
could  see  the  eend  of  my  factry  homespun  shurt !  I 
drap't  my  handkercher  in  my  lap,  and  run  my  hand 
down  and  hapen'd  to  button  it  putty  slick — but  it  gin 
me  sich  a  skeer — I  shall  never  ware  another  pare. 

Miss  Barbry  then  begun  a  talkin'  with  me  'bout  the 
fashuns,  when  I  were  in  town,  but  old  Miss  Bass  broke 
in,  and  ses  she,  "  Yes,  they  tells  me  that  the  gals  in 
town  has  injun  rubber  things  blowed  up  and  ties  aroun' 
there  wastes,  and  makes  'em  look  bigger  behin'  than 
afore — for  all  the  world  like  an  'oman  was  sorter  in  a 
curous  way  behind."  Thinks  I,  what's  comin1  next — 
when  old  Miss  Bass,  knockin'  the  ashes  outer  her  pipe, 
gethered  up  her  shuse  and  went  off.  Then  Barbry 
blushed  and  begun  talkin'  bout  the  singin'  meetin',  and 
kinder  teched  me  up  bout  bein'  fond  of  sparkin'  Dicey 
Loomis — jist  to  see  how  I'd  take  it.  "  Well,"  ses  I, 
"  she's  bout  the  likeliest  gal  in  this  settlement,  and  I 
rekon  mity  nigh  the  smartest — they  tells  me  she  kin 
spin  more  cuts  in  a  day,  and  card  her  own  rolls,  and 
danse  harder  and  longer,  and  sing  more  songs  outer 
the  Missunary  Harmony,  than  any  gal  in  the  country." 
— You  see  Mr.  Porter,  I  thot  I'd  size  her  pile.  Ses 
she — sorter  poutin'  up  and  jist  tossin  her  head — "  If 
thems  your  sentiments,  why  don't  you  cort  her — for  my 
part  I  knows  sevral  young  ladies  that's  jist  as  smart 
and  can  sing  as  many  songs — and  dance  as  well — and 
as  for  her  bein'  the  prettiest — Laws  a  Mersy !  sher — 
you  shouldn't  judge  for  me  sposin'  /was  a  man!" 


COURTSHIP  AND   WEDDING.  95 

I  thot  I'd  come  agin,  but  was  sorter  feard  of  runnin' 
the  thing  in  the  groun'.  Then  I  drawd  up  my  cheer  a 
leetle  closer,  and  were  jist  about  to  talk  to  the  spot, 
when  I  felt  choky,  and  the  trimbles  tuck  me  uncommon 
astonishin'.  Ses  Barbry,  lookin'  rite  up  in  my  face, 
and  'sorter  quivrinin  her  talk — ses  she,  "Mr.  Warrick, 
goodness  gracious,  what  does  ale  you  ?"  Ses  I,  hardly 
abel  to  talk,  "  It's  that  drotted  three  day  agur  I  cotch'd 
last  fall  a  clearin'  in  the  new  grouns — I  raly  bleve  it 
will  kill  me,  but  it  makes  no  odds, — daddy  and  mammy 
is  both  ded,  and  I'm  the  only  one  of  six  as  is  left,  and 
nobody  would  kear."  Ses  she — lookin'  rite  mornful, 
and  holdin'  down  her  lied — "  Billy,  what  does  make  you 
talk  so  ? — you  auter  know  that  there's  one  that  would 
kear  and  greve  too."  Ses  I,  peartin  up,  "  I  should  like 
to  know  if  it  ar  an  'oman — for  if  its  any  gal  that's 
spectable  and  creddittable,  I  could  love  her  like  all 
creashun.  Barbry,"  ses  I,  takin  of  her  hand,  "  aint  I 
many  a  time,  as  I  sot  by  the  fire  at  home,  all  by  my 
lone  self,  aint  I  considerd  how  if  I  did  have  a  good  wife 
how  I  could  work  for  her,  and  do  all  I  could  for  her, 
and  make  her  pleasant  like  and  happy,  and  do  evry 
thing  for  her  ?"  Well,  Barbry  she  look'd  up  to  me, 
and  seemed  so  mornful  and  pale,  and  tears  in  her  sweet 
eyes,  and  pretendin'  she  didn't  know  I  held  her  hand, 
that  I  could  not  help  sayin' — "  Barbry,  if  that  sumbody 
that  keard  was  only  you,  I'd  die  for  you,  and  be  burryd 
a  dozen  times."  She  trimbld,  and  look'd  so  pretty,  and 
sed  nothin' — I  couldn't  help  kissin'  her,  and  seem'  she 
didn't  say  "  quit,"  I  kissed  her  nigh  on  seven  or  eight 
times;  and  as  old  Miss  Bass  had  gone  to  bed,  and  Kur- 


96  BILLY  WARRICK'S 

nel  Hard  was  a  snorin'  away,  I  want  perticillar,  and  I 
spose  I  kissed  her  too  loud,  for  jist  as  I  kissed  her  the 
last  time,  out  hollered  old  Miss  Bass, — 

"  My  lord  ! — Barbry,  old  Troup  is  in  the  milk-pan  ! 
— I  heerd  him  smackin  his  lips  a  lickin  of  the  milk. 
Git  out,  you  old  varmint ! — git  out !"  Seein'  how  the 
gander  hopped,  I  jumped  up,  and  hollered  "  Git  out, 
Troup,  you  old  raskel !"  and  opened  the  door  to  make 
bleve  I  let  him  out.  As  for  Barbry,  she  laffed  till  she 
was  nigh  a  bustin'  a  holdin'  in,  and  run  out ;  and  I 
heerd  Kurnel  Hardy's  bed  a  shakin'  like  he  had  my 
three  day  agur.  Well,  I  took  tother  bed,  after  havin' 
to  pull  my  britches  over  my  shuse,  for  I  couldn't  unbut- 
ten  my  straps. 

Next  mornin  I  got  up  airly,  and  Siah  axed  me  to  stay 
to  breakfast,  but  I  had  to  feed  an  old  cow  at  the  free 
pastur,  and  left.  Jist  as  I  got  to  the  bars,  I  meets  old 
Miss  Bass,  and  ses  she,  "  Mr.  Warrick,  next  time  you 
see  a  dog  a  lickin  up  milk,  don't  let  him  do  it  loud  enuff 
to  wake  up  evry  body  in  the  house — perticerlar  when 
there's  a  stranger  bout."  And  Barbry  sent  me  word 
that  she's  so  shamed  that  she  never  kin  look  me  in  the 
face  agin,  and  never  to  come  no  more. 

Mr.  Porter,  what  shall  I  do  ?  I  feel  oncommon  sorry 
and  distrest.  Do  write  me.  I  seed  a  letter  from  N.  P. 
Willis  tother  day  in  the  Nashunal  Intelligensur  where 
he  sed  he  nad  a  hedake  on  the  top  of  his  pen  ;  I've  got 
it  at  both  eends,  for  my  hands  is  crampped  a  writin, 
and  my  hart  akes.  Do  write  me  what  to  do. 

No  more  at  pressence,  but  remane 

WM.  WARRICK. 


COURTSHIP   AND   WEDDING.  97 

CHAPTER   II. 

W  A  R  R  I  C  K    IN    LUCE. 

"  I'd  orfen  heerd  it  said  ob  late, 
Dat  Norf  Carolina  was  de  state, 
Whar  hansome  boys  am  bound  to  slime, 
Like  Dandy  Jim  of  de  Caroline."     Etc. 

PINEY  BOTTOM,  in  Old  North  State,  March  21,  this  1844. 

MR.  PORTER, — I  rode  three  mile  evry  Satterdy  to  git 
a  letter  outer  the  Post  Offis,  spectin'  as  how  you  had 
writ  me  a  anser ;  but  I  spose  what  with  Pineter  dogs, 
and  bosses,  and  Kricket,  and  Boxin',  and  Texas,  Tre- 
bla,  and  three  Fannys,  and  Acorns,  and  Punch  in  per- 
ticlar,  you  hain't  had  no  time.  I'm  glad  your  Speerit 
is  revivin' ;  so  is  mine,  and,  as  the  boy  sed  to  his  mam 
my,  I  hopes  to  be  better  acquainted  with  you. 

Well,  I  got  so  sick  in  my  speerits  and  droopy  like, 
that  I  thot  I  should  ev  died  stone  ded,  not  seein'  of 
Barbry  for  three  weeks.  So  one  evenin'  I  went  down, 
spectin'  as  how  old  Miss  Bass  had  gone  to  Sociashun, 
— for  she's  mity  religus,  and  grones  shockin'  at  prayers 
— to  hear  two  prechers  from  the  Sanwitch  Hans,  where 
they  tells  me  the  peple  all  goes  naked — which  is  comi- 
kil,  as  factry  homespun  is  cheap,  and  could  afford  to 
kiver  themselves  at  nine  cent  a  yard.  When  I  went 
in,  there  sot  old  Miss  Bass  and  old  Miss  Collis  a- 
smokin'  and  chattin'  amazin'.  I  do  think  old  Miss 
Collis  beats  all  natur  at  smokin'. 

Old  Miss  Collis  had  on  her  Sundy  frock,  and  had  it 
draw'd  up  over  her  kneas  to  keep  from  skorchin',  and 
her  pettykoats  rased  tolerble  high  as  she  sot  over  the 


98  BILLY  WARRICK'" 

fire  to  be  more  comfortabler  like,  but  when  she  seed 
me  she  drop'd  'em  down,  and  arter  howd'ying  and 
civerlizin'  each  other  I  sot  down,  but  being  sorter  flusti- 
cated  like,  thinkin'  of  that  skrape,  last  time  I  was  here, 
about  old  Troup  lickin'  of  the  milk,  and  my  briches 
that  is  open  before  comin'  unbotten'd  and  showin'  the 
eend  of  my  sheert,  I  didn't  notis  perticlar  where  I  sot. 
So  I  sot  down  in  a  cheer  where  Barbry  had  throw'd 
down  her  work  (when  she  seed  me  comin'  at  the  bars) 
and  run — and  her  nedle  stuck  shockin'  in  my — into 
me,  and  made  me  jump  up  oncomtnon  and  hollered  ! 

I  thought  old  Miss  Collis  woulder  split  wide  open  a 
laffin',  and  old  Miss  Bass  like  to  a  busted,  and  axed  my 
parding  for  laffin',  and  I  had  to  give  in,  but  it  was  laffin' 
on  t'other  side,  and  had  to  rub  the  place. 

Arter  a  while  we  got  done — but  it  looked  like  I  had 
bad  luck,  for  in  sittin'  down  agin  I  lik'd  to  have  sot  on 
Barbry's  torn  cat,  which  if  I  had,  I  shoulder  bin  like* 
Kurnel  Zip  Coon's  wife,  who  jump'd  into  a  holler  log 
to  mash  two  young  panters  to  deth,  and  they  scratched 
her  so  bad  she  couldn't  set  down  for  two  munse!  I 
seed  this  'ere  in  a  almynack.  Old  Miss  Bass  seein'  I 
was  bothered,  axed  me  to  have  a  dram,  but  I  thank'd 
her,  no. 

Ses  she,  "  Mr.  Warrick,  you  ain't  one  of  the  Tem- 
prite  Siety  ?" 

Ses  I,  "  No,  but  I  hain't  got  no  casion,  at  presence '" 

Ses  she,  "  You  is  welcome." 

Well,  we  chatted  on  some  time  'bout  prechin,  and 
mumps,  and  the  measly  oitment,  and  Tyler  gripes,  and 
Miss  Collis  she  broke  out  and  sod — 


COURTSHIP   AND    WEDDING.  99 

"  T  never  did  hear  the  beat  of  them  Tyler  gripes !  I 
have  hearn  talk  of  all  sorter  gripes,  and  dry  gripes, 
and  always  thought  that  the  gripes  was  in  the  stomic, 
before  now,  but  bless  your  soul,  Miss  Bass,  this  here 
gripes  is  in  the  hed  !  I  told  my  old  man  that  no  good 
would  come  of  'lectin'  Tyler,  but  poor  old  creeter,  he's 
sorter  hard-headed,  and  got  childish,  and  would  do  it. 
O!  me?  well,  we're  all  got  to  come  to  it  and  leve  this 
world  !  Bless  the  Lord !  I  hope  I'm  ready  !" 

And  then  she  struck  her  hed,  and  spit  out  her  ter- 
baccer  juce  as  slick  as  a  Injun. 

"That's  a  fact,"  ses  old  Miss  Bass,  "  you're  right, 
Miss  Collis ;  old  men  gits  uncommon  stubborn ;  a  hard, 
mity  hard  time,  I  had  with  my  old  man.  But  he's  ded 
and  gone  !  I  hope  he's  happy  !"  and  they  both  groan 
ed  and  shet  their  eyes,  and  pucked  up  their  mouths. 
Ses  she — "  He  got  mity  rumitys  and  troubled  me  pow 
erful,  and  the  old  creetur  tuck  astonishin'  of  dokter's 
stuff,  and  aleckcampane  and  rose  of  sublimit — but  he 
went  at  last !  The  Lord's  will  be  done  ! — Skat  !  you 
stinkin'  hussy,  and  come  out  of  that  kibbard !"  ses  she 
to  the  cat — "  I  do  think  cats  is  abominable,  and  that 
tom-cat  of  Barbry's  is  the  'scheviousest  cat  I  ever  did 
see!" 

Ses  Miss  Collis,  "  Cats  is  a  pest,  but  a  body  can't  do 
well  without  'em ;  the  mice  would  take  the  house  bo 
dily,"  ses  she ;  "  Miss  Bass,  they  tells  me  that  Dicey 
Loomis  is  a-gwying  to  be  married — her  peple  was  in 
town  last  week,  and  bort  a  power  of  things  and  arty- 
fishals,  and  lofe  sugar,  and  ribbuns,  and  cheese,  and 
sich  like !" 


100  BILLY  WARRIOR'S 

"  Why,"  ses  Miss  Bass,  "  you  don't  tell  me  so !  Did 
I  ever  hear  the  beat  o'  that !  Miss  Collis,  are  it  a 
fact!" 

"  Yes,"  ses  Miss  Collis,  "  it's  the  nat'ral  truth,  for 
brother  Bounds  tell'd  it  to  me  at  last  class  meetin'." 

Ses  Miss  Bass,  hollerin'  to  Barbry  in  t'other  room, 
*  Barbry,  do  you  hear  that  Dicey  Loomis  is  gwying  to 
git  married  ?  Well !  well !  it  beats  me !  bless  the 
Lord !  I  wonder  who  she's  gwying  to  git  married  to, 
Miss  Collis?" 

Ses  Miss  Collis,  "  Now,  child,  yure  too  hard  for  me  ; 
but  they  do  say  it's  to  that  Taler  from  Town.  Well, 
he's  a  putty  man,  and  had  on  such  a  nice  dress — 'cept 
he's  most  too  much  nock  nead,  sick  eyes  and  sick 
whiskers,  and  now  don't  he  play  the  fiddle  ?" 

Ses  Miss  Bass — "  Well,  Dicey  is  a  middlin'  peart 
gal,  but  for  my  part  I  don't  see  what  the  taler  seed  in 
her." 

"  Nor  I  nuther,"  ses  Miss  Collis,"  but  she's  gwine  to 
do  well.  I  couldn't  a  sed  no  if  he'd  a  axed  for  our 
Polly." 

"  Then  in  comes  Barbry,  and  we  how-dy'd  and  both 
turned  sorter  red  in  the  face,  and  I  trimbl'd  tolerable 
and  felt  agurry.  Well,  arter  we  talk'd  a  spell,  all  of 
us,  Miss  Bass  got  up  and  ses  she,  "  Miss  Collis  I  want 
to  show  you  a  nice  passel  of  chickens  ;  our  old  speckled 
hen  come  off  with  eleven,  yisterdy,  as  nice  as  ever 
you  did  see." 

Then  old  Miss  Collis  riz  up,  and  puttin'  her  hands 
on  her  hips,  and  stratened  like,  and  ses,  right  quick — 
"  Laws  a  massy  !  my  poor  back  !  Drat  the  rumatics ! 


COURTSHIP   AND   WEDDING.  101 

It's  powerful  bad ;  it's  gwyne  to  rain,  I  know !— oh, 
me !  me !" — and  they  both  went  out.  Then  Barbry 
look'd  at  me  so  comikil  and  sed,  Billy,  I  raly  shall  die 
thinkin'  of  you  and  old  Troup !"  and  she  throw'd  her 
self  back  and  laffed  and  laffed ;  and  she  look'd  so  putty 
and  so  happy  ses  I  to  myself,  "  Billy  Warrick,  you 
must  marry  that  gal  and  no  mistake,  or  brake  a  trace !" 
and  I  swore  to  it. 

Well,  we  then  talk'd  agreeable  like,  and  sorter  saft, 
and  both  of  us  war  so  glad  to  see  one  another — till  old 
Miss  Bass  and  Miss  Collis  come  back ;  and  bimeby 
Miss  Collises  youngest  son  come  for  her,  and  I  helped 
her  at  the  bars  to  get  up  behin'  her  son,  and  ses  she, 
"  Good  bye,  Billy  !  Good  luck  to  you  !  I  know'd  your 
daddy  and  mammy  afore  you  was  born  on  yerth,  and  I 
was  the  fust  one  after  your  granny  that  had  you  in  the 
arms — me  and  Miss  Bass  talked  it  over!  you'll  git  a 
smart,  peart,  likely  gal!  So  good  bye,  Billy !" 

Ses  I,  "  Good  bye,  Miss  Collis,"  and  ses  I,  "  Gooly, 
take  good  kear  of  your  mammy,  my  son  !"  You  see  I 
thot  Fd  be  perlite. 

Well,  when  I  went  back  there  sot  old  Miss  Bass, 
and  ses  she,  "  Billy !  Miss  Collis  and  me  is  a  bin  talk- 
in'  over  you  and  Barbry,  and  seein'  you  are  a  good 
karickter  and  smart,  and  well  to  do  in  the  world,  and  a 
poor  orphin  boy,  I  shan't  say  no  !  Take  her,  Billy,  and 
be  good  to  her,  and  God  bless  you,  my  son,  for  I'm  all 
the  mammy  you've  got !"  so  she  kiss'd  me,  and  ses 
she,  "  now  kiss  Barbry.  We've  talk'd  it  over,  and 
leave  us  now  for  a  spell,  for  it's  hard  to  give  up  my 
child!"  So  I  kiss'd  Barbry  and  left. 


102  BILLY  WARRIOR'S 

The  way  I  rode  home  was  oncommon  peart,  and  my 
old  mare  pranced  and  was  like  the  man  in  skriptur  who 
"  waxed  fat  and  kickd,"  and  I  hurried  home  to  tell  old 
Venus,  and  to  put  up  three  shotes  and  some  turkies  to 
fatten  for  the  innfare.  Mr.  Porter,  it's  to  be  the  third 
Wensday  in  next  month,  and  Barbry  sends  you  a  ticket 
— and  if  it's  a  boy,  I  shall  name  it  arter  you — hopin' 
you  will  put  it  in  your  paper — that  is,  the  weddin'. 

So  wishin'  you  a  heap  of  subskribers,  I  remane  in 
good  helth  and  speerits  at  presence. 

Your  Friend,  WM.  WARRICK. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WARRICK'S  WEDDING. 

Described  in  a  letter  by  an  "  old  flame"  of  his. 

To  Miss  Polly  Stroud,  nigh  Noxvil  in  the  State  of  Tennysee,  clost  by 
where  the  French  Broad  and  Holsin  jines. 

Piney  Bottom,  this  July  9,  of  1844. 

Miss  Polly  Stroud — dere  maddam. — I  now  take  my 
pen  in  hand  of  the  presence  oppertunity  to  let  you  know 
how  we  are  all  well,  but  I  am  purry  in  sperits  hopin 
this  few  lines  may  find  you  the  same  by  gods  mercy  as 
I  have  been  so  mortyfide  I  could  cry  my  eyes  out  bodily. 
Bill  Warrick,  yes  Bill  Warrick,  is  married  to  Bar 
bry  Bass !  I  seed  it  done — a  mean  trifllin,  deceevinist 
creetur — but  never  mind — Didnt  I  know  him  when  we 
went  to  old  field  skool — a  little  raggid  orflin  Boy,  with 
nobody  to  patch  his  close  torn  behin  a  makin  of  a 
dicky-dicky- dout  of  himself — cause  his  old  nigger  oman 


COURTSHIP   AND   WEDDING.  103 

Venus  was  too  lazy  to  mend  em  ?  Didnt  I  know  him 
when  he  couldnt  make  a  pot  hook  or  a  hanger  in  his 
copy  book  to  save  his  life,  as  for  makin  of  a  S  he  al 
ways  put  it  tother  way,  jist  so  g  backwards.  And  then 
to  say  I  were  too  old  for  him  and  that  he  always  con 
ceited  I  was  a  sort  of  a  sister  to  him  !  O  Polly  Stroud, 
he  is  so  likely,  perticlar  when  he  is  dressed  up  of  a 
Sunday  or  a  frolick — and  what  is  worser  his  wife  is 
prutty  too,  tho  I  dont  acknowlige  it  here.  Only  too 
think  how  I  doated  on  him,  how  I  used  to  save  bosim 
blossoms  for  him,  which  some  people  call  sweet  sentid 
shrubs — and  how  I  used  to  put  my  hand  in  an  pull  them 
out  for  him,  and  how  I  used  to  blush  when  he  sed  they 
was  sweeter  for  comin  from  where  they  did  ?  Who  went 
blackberryin  and  huckleberryin  with  me?  who  always 
rode  to  preechun  with  me  and  helped  me  on  the  hos? 
who  made  Pokebery  stains  in  dimons  and  squares  and 
circles  and  harts  and  so  on  at  quiltins  for  me  ? — and 
talkin  of  Poke — I  do  hope  to  fathers  above  that  Poke 
will  beat  Clay  jist  to  spite  Bill,  for  he  is  a  rank  dis 
tracted  Whig  and  secreterry  to  the  Clay  Club — who 
always  threaded  my  nedle  and  has  kissed  me  in  perticler, 
in  playin  of  kneelin  to  the  wittyist,  bowin  to  the  puttyist, 
and  kissin  of  them  you  love  best,  and  playin  Sister  Feebe, 
and  Oats,  Peas-Beans  and  Barly  grows — at  least  one 
hundred  times?  Who  wated  as  candil  holder  with  me 
at  Tim  Bolins  weddin,  and  sed  he  knowd  one  in  the 
room  hed  heap  rather  marry,  and  looked  at  me  so  un 
common,  and  his  eyes  so  blue  that  I  felt  my  face  burn 
for  a  quarter  of  a  hour  ?  who  I  do  say  was  it  but  Bill 
Warrick — yes,  and  a  heap  more.  If  I  havent  a  grate 


104  BILLY  WARRICK'S 

mind  to  sue  him,  and  would  do  it,  if  it  wasnt  I  am  feared 
bed  show  a  Voluntine  I  writ  to  him  Feberary  a  year 
ago.  He  orter  be  exposed,  for  if  ever  he  is  a  widderer 
hell  fool  somebody  else  the  same  way  he  did  me.  Its 
a  burnin  shame,  I  could  hardly  hold  my  head  up  at  the 
weddin.  If  I  hadnt  of  bin  so  mad  and  too  proude  to 
let  him  see  it  I  could  of  cried  severe. 

Well,  it  was  a  nice  weddin — sich  ice  cakes  and  mi- 
nicies  and  rasins  and  oringis  and  hams,  flour  doins  and 
chickin  fixins,  and  four  oncommon  fattest  big  goblers 
rosted  I  ever  seed.  The  Bryde  was  dressed  in  a  white 
muslin  figgured  over  a  pink  satin  pettycote,  with  white 
gloves  and  satin  shoes,  and  her  hair  a  curlin  down  with 
a  little  rose  in  it,  and  a  chain  aroun  her  neck.  I  dont 
know  whether  it  was  raal  gool  or  plated.  She  looked 
butiful,  and  Bill  did  look  nice,  and  all  the  candydates 
and  two  preechers  and  Col.  Hard  was  there,  and  Bills 
niggers,  the  likeliest  nine  of  them  you  ever  looked  at, 
and  when  I  did  look  at  em  and  think,  I  raly  thought  I 
should  or  broke  my  heart.  Well,  sich  kissin — several 
of  the  gals  sed  that  there  faces  burnt  like  fire,  for  one 
of  the  preechers  and  Col.  Hard  wosnt  shaved  clost. 

Bimeby  I  was  a  sittin  leanin  back,  and  Bill  he  come 
behin  me  and  sorter  jerked  me  back,  and  skeared  me 
powerful  for  fear  I  was  fallin  backwards,  and  I  skreamed 
and  kicked  up  my  feet  before  to  ketch  like,  and  if  I 
hadnt  a  had  on  pantalets  I  reckon  somebody  would  of 
knowd  whether  I  gartered  above  my  knees  or  not.  We 
had  a  right  good  laff  on  old  Parson  Brown  as  he  got 
through  a  marryin  of  em — says  he,  "I  pronounce  you, 
William  Warrick  and  Barbry  Bass,  man  and  oman," 


COURTSHIP   AND   WEDDING.  105 

— ho  did  look  so  when  we  laffed,  and  he  rite  quick  sed 
— "  man  and  wife — salute  your  Bryde,"  and  Bill  looked 
horrid  red,  and  Barbry  trimbled  and  blushed  astonishin 
severe. 

Well,  its  all  over,  but  I  dont  keer — theres  as  good 
fish  in  the  sea  as  ever  come  outen  it.  Im  not  poor  for 
the  likes  of  Bill  Warrick,  havin  now  three  sparks,  and 
one  of  them  from  Town,  whose  got  a  good  grocery  and 
leads  the  Quire  at  church  outer  the  Suthern  Harmony, 
the  Missonry  Harmony  is  gone  outer  fashion. 

Unkle  Ben's  oldest  gal  Suky  is  gwine  to  marry  a 
Virginny  tobacker  roler,  named  Saint  George  Drum- 
mon,  and  he  says  he  is  a  kin  to  Jack  Randolf  and  Po- 
kerhuntus,  who  they  is  the  Lord  knows.  Our  Jack  got 
his  finger  cut  with  a  steal  trap  catchin  of  a  koon  for  a 
Clay  Club,  and  the  boys  is  down  on  a  tar  raft,  and  ole 
Miss  Collis  and  mammy  is  powerful  rumatic,  and  the 
measly  complaint  is  amazin.  I  jist  heard  you  have  got 
two  twins  agin — that  limestone  water  must  be  astonish- 
in  curyous  in  its  affects.  What  is  the  fashuns  in  Ten- 
nysee,  the  biggist  sort  of  Bishups  is  the  go  here.  My 
love  to  your  old  man,  your  friend. 

NANCY  GUITON. 

Old  Miss  Collis  and  mammy  is  jist  come  home. 
Betsy  Bolin  is  jist  had  a  fine  son  and  they  say  she  is  a 
doin  as  well  as  could  be  expected,  and  the  huckleberry 
crop  is  short  on  account  of  the  drouth. 


A  BULLY  BOAT 

.         AND   A   BRAG   CAPTAIN. 

A  STORT  OF  STEAMBOAT   LIFE  ON  THE  MISSISSIPPI — BY  SOL.  SMITH. 


One  of  the  oldest  and  assuredly  one  of  the  best  correspondents  the 
"  Spirit  of  the  Times"  ever  boasted  of,  is  the  writer  of  the  story  which 
follows.  "  Old  Sol,"  as  he  is  familiarly  termed,  has  been,  in  the 
course  of  his  eventful  life,  "  every  thing  by  turns,"  but  unlike  many 
"  a  Jack  of  all  trades"  he  is  really  "  good  at  anything."  As  editor, 
manager,  preacher,  or  lawyer,  he  has  not  only  commanded  success 
but  deserved  it.  For  many  years  he  has  been  associated  with  Mr. 
Ludlow  in  the  management  of  the  Mobile,  New  Orleans,  and  St. 
Louis  theatres.  Within  a  few  weeks  he  has  been  admitted  to  practice 
as  an  attorney  and  counsellor  at  law  "in  all  the  Courts  of  the  state 
of  Missouri."  We  will  only  add  that  we  wish  him  in  brief,  lots  of 
practice. 

DOES  any  one  remember  the  Caravan  ?  She  was 
what  would  now  be  considered  a  slow  boat ; — then  [1827] 
she  was  regularly  advertised  as  the  "fast  running,"  etc. 
Her  regular  trips  from  New  Orleans  to  Natchez  were 
usually  made  in  from  six  to  eight  days ;  a  trip  made  by 
her  in  five  days  was  considered  remarkable.  A  voyage 
from  New  Orleans  to  Vicksburg  and  back,  including 
stoppages,  generally  entitled  the  officers  and  crew  to  a 
month's  wages.  Whether  the  Caravan  ever  achieved 
the  feat  of  a  voyage  to  the  Falls,  (Louisville,)  I  have 
never  learned;  if  she  did,  she  must  have  "had  a  time 
of  it!" 

106 


A    BRAG    CAPTAIN.  107 

It  was  my  fate  to  take  passage  in  this  boat.  Tho 
Captain  was  a  good-natured,  easy-going  man,  careful 
of  the  comfort  of  his  passengers,  and  exceedingly  fond 
of  the  game  of  brag.*  We  had  been  out  a  little  more  than 
five  days,  and  we  were  in  hopes  of  seeing  the  bluffs  of 
Natchez  on  the  next  day.  Our  wood  was  getting  lo\v, 
and  night  coming  on.  The  pilot  on  duty  above,  (the 
other  pilot  held  three  aces  at  the  time,  and  was  just 
calling  out  the  Captain,  who  "  went  it  strong"  on  three 
kings,)  sent  down  word  that  the  mate  had  reported  the 
stock  of  wood  reduced  to  half  a  cord.  The  worthy  Cap 
tain  excused  himself  to  the  pilot  whose  watch  was  below, 
and  the  two  passengers  who  made  up  the  party,  and 
hurried  to  the  deck,  where  he  soon  discovered,  by  the 
landmarks,  that  we  were  about  half  a  mile  from  a  wood- 
yard,  which  he  said  was  situated  "  right  round  yonder 
point."  "  But,"  muttered  the  Captain,  "  I  don't  much 
like  to  take  wood  of  the  yellow-faced  old  scoundrel  who 
owns  it — he  always  charges  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  more 
than  any  one  else ;  however,  there's  no  other  chance." 
The  boat  was  pushed  to  her  utmost,  and,  in  a  little  less 
than  an  hour,  when  our  fuel  was  about  giving  out,  we 
made  the  point,  and  our  cables  were  out  and  fastened 
to  trees,  alongside  of  a  good-sized  wood-pile. 

"  Hollo,  Colonel !  how  d'ye  sell  your  wood  this 
time?" 

A  yellow-faced  old  gentleman,  with  a  two  weeks' 
beard,  strings  over  his  shoulders  holding  up  to  his  arm 
pits  a  pair  of  copperas-coloured  linsey-woolsey  pants,  the 

*  It  must  be  recollected,  that  the  incidents  here  related,  took  place 
seventeen  years  ago.  Within  the  last  ten  years,  although  I  have  travel 
led  en  hundreds  of  boats,  I  have  nnt  teen  an  officer  of  a  boat  play  a  card. 

G 


108  A    BULLY  BOAT 

legs  of  which  reached  a  very  little  below  the  knee;  shoes 
without  stockings  ;  a  faded,  broad-brimmed  hat,  which 
had  once  been  black,  and  a  pipe  in  his  mouth — casting 
a  glance  at  the  empty  guards  of  our  boat,  and  uttering 
a  grunt  as  he  rose  from  fastening  our  "  spring  line," 
answered, 

"  Why,  Capting,  we  must  charge  you  three  and  a 
quarter  THIS  time" 

"The  d — 11"  replied  the  Captain — (Captains  did 
swear  a  little  in  those  days)  "  what's  the  odd  quarter 
for,  I  should  like  to  know  1  You  only  charged  me  three 
as  I  went  down." 

"  Why,  Capting,"  drawled  out  the  wood-merchant, 
with  a  sort  of  leer  on  his  yellow  countenance,  which 
clearly  indicated  that  his  wood  was  as  good  as  sold, 
"  wood's  riz  since  you  went  down  two  weeks  ago ;  be 
sides,  you  are  awar  that  you  very  seldom  stop  going 
down; — when  you're  going  up,  you're  sometimes  oblee- 
ged  to  give  me  a  call,  becaze  the  current's  aginst  you, 
and  there's  no  other  wood-yard  for  nine  miles  ahead ; 
and  if  you  happen  to  be  nearly  out  of  fooel,  why" — 

"  Well,  well,"  interrupted  the  Captain,  "  we'll  take 
a  few  cords,  under  the  circumstances" — and  he  return 
ed  to  his  game  of  brag. 

In  about  half  an  hour  we  felt  the  Caravan  commence 
paddling  again.  Supper  was  over,  and  I  retired  to  my 
upper  berth,  situated  alongside  and  overlooking  the 
brag-table,  where  the  Captain  was  deeply  engaged, 
having  now  the  other  pilot  as  his  principal  opponent. 
We  jogged  on  quietly — and  seemed  to  be  going  at  a 
good  rate. 


AND   A   BRAG   CAPTAIN.  109 

"  How  does  that  wood  burn  ?"  inquired  the  Captain 
of  the  mate,  who  was  looking  on  at  the  game. 

"  'Tisn't  of  much  account,  I  reckon,"  answered  the 
mate — "  it's  cotton-wood,  and  most  of  it  green  at  that." 

"  Well,  Thompson — (three  aces,  again,  stranger — 
I'll  take  that  X  and  the  small  change,  if  you  please — it's 
your  deal) — Thompson,  I  say,  we'd  better  take  three 
or  four  cords  at  the  next  wood-yard — it  can't  be  more 
than  six  miles  from  here — (two  aces  and  a  bragger, 
with  the  age  !  hand  over  those  Vs.") 

The  game  went  on  and  the  paddles  kept  moving. 
At  11  o'clock,  it  was  reported  to  the  Captain  that  we 
were  nearing  the  wood-yard,  the  light  being  distinctly 
seen  by  the  pilot  on  duty. 

"  Head  her  in  shore,  then,  and  take  in  six  cords,  if 
it's  good — see  to  it,  Thompson,  I  can't  very  well  leave 
the  game  now — it's  getting  right  warm  !  This  pilot's 
beating  us  all  to  smash." 

The  wooding  completed,  we  paddled  on  again.  The 
Captain  seemed  somewhat  vexed,  when  the  mate  in 
formed  him  that  the  price  was  the  same  as  at  the  last 
wood-yard — three  and  a  quarter;  but  soon  again  became 
interested  in  the  game. 

From  my  upper  berth  (there  was  no  state-rooms  then) 
I  could  observe  the  movements  of  the  players.  All  the 
contention  appeared  to  be  between  the  Captain  and  the 
pilots,  (the  latter  personages  took  it  turn  and  turn  about, 
steering  and  playing  brag,)  one  of  them  almost  invaria 
bly  winning,  while  the  two  passengers  merely  went 
through  the  ceremony  of  dealing,  cutting,  and  paying 
up  their  "  antics"  They  were  anxious  to  learn  the  game 
43 


110  A   BULLY   BOAT 

— and  they  did  learn  it !  Once  in  awhile,  indeed,  see 
ing  they  had  two  aces  and  a  bragger,  they  would  ven 
ture  a  bet  of  five  or  ten  dollars,  but  they  were  always 
compelled  to  back  out  before  the  tremendous  bragging 
of  the  Captain  or  pilot — or  if  they  did  venture  to  "call 
out"  on  "  two  bullits  and  a  bragger,"  they  had  the  mor- 
lification  to  find  one  of  the  officers  had  the  same  kind 
of  a  hand,  and  were  more  venerable  !  Still,  with  all  these 
disadvantages,  they  continued  playing — they  wanted  to 
learn  the  game. 

At  2  o'clock,  the  Captain  asked  the  mate  how  we 
were  getting  on  ? 

"  Oh,  pretty  glibly,  sir,"  replied  the  mate,  "  we  can 
scarcely  tell  what  headway  we  are  making,  for  we  are 
obliged  to  keep  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  there  is  the 
shadow  of  a  fog  rising.  This  wood  seems  rather  better 
than  that  we  took  in  at  old  yellow-face's,  but  we're 
nearly  out  again,  and  must  be  looking  out  for  more.  I 
saw  a  light  just  ahead  on  the  right — shall  we  hail?" 

"  Yes,  yes,"  replied  the  Captain,  "  ring  the  bell  and 
ask  'em  what's  the  price  of  wood  up  here  ? — I've  got 
you  again  ;  here's  double  kings." 

I  heard  the  bell  and  the  pilot's  hail :  "  What's  your 
price  for  wood  ?" 

A  youthful  voice  on  the  shore  answered :  "  Three 
and  a  quarter !" 

"  D — n  it !"  ejaculated  the  Captain,  who  had  just 
lost  the  price  of  two  cords  to  the  pilot — the  strangers 
suffering  some  at  the  same  time — "  Three  and  a  quarter 
again  !  Are  we  never  to  get  to  a  cheaper  country  ? 
deal,  sir,  if  you  please — better  luck  next  time."  The 
other  pilot's  voice  was  again  heard  on  deck — 


AND   A   BRAG    CAPTAIN.  Ill 

"  How  much  have  you  ?" 

"  Only  about  ten  cords,  sir,"  was  the  reply  of  the 
youthful  salesman. 

The  Captain  here  told  Thompson  to  take  six  cords, 
which  would  last  till  daylight — and  again  turned  his 
attention  to  the  game. 

The  pilots  here  changed  places.    When  did  they  sleep  ? 

Wood  taken  in,  the  Caravan  again  took  her  place  in 
the  middle  of  the  stream,  paddling  on  as  usual. 

Day  at  length  dawned.  The  brag-party  broke  up, 
and  settlements  were  being  made,  during  which  opera 
tion  the  Captain's  bragging  propensities  were  exercised 
in  cracking  up  the  speed  of  his  boat,  which,  by  his 
reckoning,  must  have  made  at  least  sixty  miles,  and 
would  have  made  many  more,  if  he  could  have  procur 
ed  good  wood.  It  appears  the  two  passengers,  in  their 
first  lesson,  had  incidentally  lost  one  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars.  The  Captain,  as  he  rose  to  see  about  taking 
in  some  good  wood,  which  he  felt  sure  of  obtaining, 
now  he  had  got  above  the  level  country,  winked  at  his 
opponent,  the  pilot,  with  whom  he  had  been  on  very  bad 
terms  during  the  progress  of  the  game,  and  said,  in  an 
under-tone, — "  Forty  a-piece  for  you  and  I  and  James 
^the  other  pilot)  is  not  bad  for  one  night." 

I  had  risen,  and  went  out  with  the  Captain,  to  enjoy 
a  view  of  the  bluffs.  There  was  just  fog  enough  to 
prevent  the  vision  taking  in  more  than  sixty  yards — so 
I  was  disappointed  in  my  expectation.  We  were  near- 
ing  the  shore  for  the  purpose  of  looking  for  wood,  the 
banks  being  invisible  from  the  middle  of  the  river. 

"  There  it  is  !"  exclaimed  the  Captain,  "  stop  her  !" 


112  A   BULLY   BOAT. 

— Ding — ding — ding  !  went  the  big  bell,  and  the  Cap 
tain  hailed : 

Hollo  !  the  wood-yard  !" 

"Hollo  yourself!"  answered  a  squeaking  female 
voice,  which  came  from  a  woman  with  a  petticoat  over 
her  shoulders  in  place  of  a  shawl. 

"  What's  the  price  of  wood  ?" 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  know  the  price  by  this  time," 
answered  the  old  lady  in  the  petticoat — "  it's  three  and 
a  qua-a-rter !  and  now  you  know  it." 

"  Three  and  the  d — 1 !"  broke  in  the  Captain — 
what,  have  you  raised  on  your  wood  too  !  I'll  give  you 
three,  and  not  a  cent  more." 

"  Well,"  replied  the  petticoat,  "  here  comes  the  old 
man — he'll  talk  to  you." 

And,  sure  enough,  out  crept  from  the  cottage  the 
veritable  faded  hat,  copperas-coloured  pants,  yellow 
countenance  and  two  weeks'  beard  we  had  seen  the 
night  before,  and  the  same  voice  we  had  heard  regu 
lating  the  price  of  cotton-wood  squeaked  out  the  follow 
ing  sentence,  accompanied  by  the  same  leer  of  the  same 
yellow  countenance ; 

"  Why  darn  it  all,  Capting,  there  is  but  three  or  four 
cords  left,  and  since  ifs  you,  I  don't  care  if  I  do  let  you 
have  it  for  three — as  you're  a  good  customer!" 

After  a  quick  glance  at  the  landmarks  around,  the 
Captain  bolted,  and  turned  in  to  take  some  rest. 

The  fact  became  apparent — the  reader  will  probably 
have  discovered  it  some  time  since — that  we  had  been 
wooding  all  night  at  the  same  wood-yard ! 


LETTER 

FROM  BILLY  PATTERSON  HIMSELF. 

"  Wlio  hit  Billy  Patterson?" 

The  following  letter  gives  the  very  latest  intelligence  of  the  where 
abouts  and  "condition"  of  Mr.  William  Patterson — an  individual 
whose  fame  is  as  imperishable  as  that  of"  The  Man  with  the  Claret- 
coloured  Coat,"  so  renowned  as  the  assailant  of  the  New  York  Arse 
nal,  and  "  My  son  George  and  the  Carpenter."  Mr.  Patterson  is  the 
individual  who  was  so  brutally  assaulted  some  time  ago,  and  it  will 
be  seen  that  in  the  following  letter  (addressed  to  the  New  Orleans 
"  Republican")  he  feelingly  and  delicately  alludes  to  that  "  vilent 
bio  reseaved  long  sense  by  some  anonymus  person."  It  may  be  pro 
per  to  state,  by  way  of  explanation  of  the  cause  which  has  brought 
Mr.  Patterson  himself  before  the  public,  over  his  own  signature,  thac 
there  has  lately  been  a  great  excitement  at  New  Orleans  about  a 
Witch,  who,  it  is  alleged,  has  been  seen  thereabouts,  meditating  mis 
chief. 

N.  Orleans  jun  7. 

RE  SPEXTID  SUR. — Owen  to  a  vilent  bio  reseaved 
long  sense  by  some  anonymus  person,  by  witch  rooma- 
tiz  tuk  place  in  the  eppygastrum  and  the  hoptic  nurve 
was  hyly  diskolor'd,  comin  nigh  to  subjectin  yores  truly 
to  a  Panefull  post  mortum  opperrashun  and  a  vilent 
hurtopsey — i  was  kumpelled  to  4  go  a  mixture  with 
Publik  effares  and  konfine  myself  to  Silense  and  Diet 
on  less  i  Wanted  to  make  a  Die  of  it — to  yuse  a  vul- 
gerism.  I  now  ressom  the  pen  so's  to  nudge  the  Pub 
lik  mind  on  a  Grave  preposition.  Here  it  Is.  Ken 

115 


116      LETTER  FROM  BILLY  PATTERSON. 

witchkraft  flurrish  in  an  intelligent  age  ?  I  holed  the 
convurs  of  the  fact  but  some  Go  it  Strong  on  the  opper- 
sition,  and  they  sa  that  the  witch  witch  was  taken  Up 
down  in  the  Furst  was  a  Boner  fidey  sprigg  of  the  old 
Boy  himselff.  Now  sais  i  wares  yure  prufe.  Ken  enny 
body  ride  a  Steepel  chase  on  a  brume  Handel  ceptin 
the  flyin  Bird  man,  and  He  coudent.  Wos  evur  enny 
wun  knone  to  jump  out  of  thare  Skin,  as  roomer  ses 
this  witch  did,  ceptin  a  poor  man  that  had  a  fortin  left 
to  Him,  witch  Dont  komonly  happen. 

Agin  they  say  this  witch  went  into  the  worter,  wareas 
we  all  Kno  that  witches  hate  worter  like  Pizen  and 
never  so  much  as  wosh  theirselves,  and  the  Salem  fokes 
went  so  fur  as  to  souse  em  in  the  Hoss  pond  when  tha 
was  suspected  of  puttin  the  devil  into  thare  naburs  ship 
and  lams,  witch  went  agin  thar  feelins  wuss  than  Enny 
thing  tha  could  do  to  em.  So  the  worter  biziness  wont 
Go  down  no  more  than  twill  down  a  drunkerds  throte. 
Now  conollogy  tells  us  that  witchcraft  has  been  nocked 
into  a  cock'd  Hat  ever  sense  the  time  of  old  King 
Joemes  of  Ingland,  and  Krumwill.  McBeth  upset 
their  pot  of  potaturs  for  em  in  the  Woods  wun  day  as 
Billy  Shakes  Pear  tells  us,  for  witch  tha  turned  round 
and  give  him  pertikler  Jessy;  but  littery  men  knoes 
that  wos  a  licens  of  Potry  and  no  sitch  thing — more 
Over  didn't  the  Wizerd  of  the  noth,  old  Walter  Skott, 
who  had  a  Feller  feelin  with  the  witches,  rite  a  book  to 
kwyit  em.  Tha  aint  no  witches — that's  the  way  tc 
tell  it ! 

But  wots  a  Staggerer  is  this  here  clearviants  and 
seein  thru  stun  Wolls  wen  a  man's  in  a  Stait  of  Sum- 


LETTER   FBOM  BILLY   PATTERSON.  117 

nambei  lism — aint  it  the  Dooty  of  the  orthoryties  to  Sea 
weather  thare  aint  No  witcherry  in  that.  Wy  aint  Mr. 
Bonnyvilly,  Mr.  Webbster,  and  Mr.  Bontown,  and  all 
the  other  gentlemen  that  goes  it  strong  on  wusser  can- 
ticoes  than  ever  the  witches  Did,  why  aint  they,  i  repit, 
horld  over  the  Coles.  Wy  dont  the  lor  Do  its  Dooty 
without  fear  or  affexshun,  and  knot  make  a  Silk  puss 
of  wun  and  a  sows  ere  of  tother.  But  mebby  it  will  be 
kontended  that  our  Statties  haint  no  claws  agin  wizerds, 
but  if  pullin  a  stubburn  Snag  out  of  a  man's  jor  and  he 
not  knoin  its  out  aint  wuth  sich  a  claws,  then  tare  me 
off  and  Burn  me  !  thay'll  be  Nock  in  a  man's  Hed  off 
wile  in  a  Mag  Nettick  state  and  plasterin  it  on  agin 
afore  he's  brot  to,  bim  by,  and  wuns  ennymis  will  mes- 
mureys  Him  stock  still  in  the  streat  when  he  darts  Out 
in  a  hurre  to  pa  a  Note  in  the  bank,  and  thare  will  be 
no  End  to  the  misschif  that  will  B  en  Tailed,  i  sa 
them's  em — tha  ort  to  be  sket  Up  and  med  to  kwit  put- 
tin  spells  and  witch  gammon  on  the  kommunety. 

paper  bein  out,  No  more  til  a  futur  pearioud.  I  re- 
mane  yures  with  a  rakkin  pane  in  the  sholder  witch  i 
hev  ben  trubbled  with  Ever  sence  my  Ruffinly  a  salt 

W.  PATTERSON. 


A  SWIM  FOR  A  DEEB. 

A   MISSISSIPPI    STOR  Y — B  Y   THE   'k  TURKEY  RUNXE  R." 


Like  "N.  of  Arkansas,"  Thorpe,  Noland,  Winslow,  McClure,  Ains- 
worth,  and  others,  the  writer  of  the  following  sketch  made  his  debut 
before  the  world  of  letters  in  the  New- York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times." 
He  is  nearly  connected  with  a  late  governor  of  one  of  the  principal 
cotton-growing  states  ;  and  under  the  signature  of"  The  Turkey  Run 
ner,"*  his  original  sketches  of  life  and  manners  in  the  south-west 
have  made  him  a  formidable  rival  of  the  author  of  "  Tom  Owen  the 
Bee  Hunter."  His  two  favourite  characters,  who  figure  in  almost  all 
his  hunting  stories,  are  "Jim"  and  "  Chunkey."  The  latter,  poor 
fellow,  is  now  no  more,  having  died  very  suddenly,  recently,  in  his 
thirty-fifth  year,  at  the  plantation  of  ex-governor  McNutt,  in  Missis 
sippi.  His  name  was  James  W.  Wofford.  He  is  said  to  have  been. 
a  warm-hearted,  generous  and  inoffensive  man,  and  a  keen  sports 
man.  His  only  faults  grew  out  of  his  social  disposition ;  but  he  pos 
sessed  so  many  virtues  and  good  qualities,  that  the  wide  circle  of  his 
acquaintance  could  have  better  spared  a  better  man.  In  the  follow 
ing  story  Jim  recounts  to  the  writer  a  hunting  incident,  in  which 

*  In  the  barren  lands  of  the  South,  during  the  autumn,  from  the  fall- 
<Gg  nut  and  ripening  berry  the  turkeys  not  unfrequently  become  so 
fat  as  to  be  unable  to  fly  any  distance ;  it  is  then  the  "  Turkey  Runner," 
who  is  also  a  bee  and  still  hunter,  sallies  forth  in  quest  of  a  drove,  from 
which  he  selects  some  master  spirit,  and  flushes  him — he  very  leisurely 
follows,  desirous  of  tiring  him  by  his  flights  until  he  is  unable  longer  to 
fly;  then  the  turkey  runner  lets  out  and  exhibits  a  turn  of  speed  as 
tonishing — to  the  turkey.  This  is  continued  until  he  secures  as  many 
as  he  wants,  when  he  makes  for  the  nearest  creek  or  spring  branch — 
when,  after  quenching  his  thirst,  he  watches  for  the  honey-bee,  takes 
his  "bee  line,"  and  follows  for  half  a  mile,  examining  critically  every 
tree  until  he  detects  the  swarm  issuing  from  some  knot  or  gnarled 
trunk,  then  returns  and  tries  for  another,  or  seeks  his  cabin,  as  inclina 
tion  prompts. 

118 


A    SWIM   FOR   A   DEER.  119 

Chunkey  and  himself  took  part.  They  were  both  employed  by  Go 
vernor  McNutt  on  a  remote  plantation  of  his  on  the  Sunflower  river, 
in  a  perfect  wilderness.  Here  the  events  related  below  occurred. 

"YES,  Capting,  they  war  lower,  I  tell  you — why,  God 
bless  your  soul,  honey,  they  war  not  only  powerful  thick, 
but  some  on  'em  war  as  big  as  common-sized  horses, 
I  do  reckon  ;  'cause  why,  nobody  ever  had  hunted  'em, 
you  see.  In  the  winter  time  the  overflow,  and  in  the 
summer  time  the  lakes  and  snakes,  bayous  and  alliga 
tors,  musketoes  and  gallinippers,  buffalo  gnats  and 
sand  flies,  with  a  small  sprinkle  of  the  agur  and  a  per 
fect  cord  of  congestive,  prevented  the  Ingins  from 
gvvine  through  the  country !  Oh  no ;  the  red  skins 
would  rather  hunt  the  fat  turkey  and  deer  in  the  Azoo 
hills  and  pine  lands  t'other  side  of  the  Pearl  river,  to 
killin'  fat  bar  on  the  Creek  or  Sunflower." 

"  Well,  Jim,  I  think  they  were  right ;  you  must  then 
have  been  among  the  first  hunters  in  the  country." 

"  Yes,  I  do  reckon  when  I  first  went  into  that  coun 
try,  from  the  Azoo  Hills  to  the  Mississippi,  there  never 
had  been  but  mighty  few  hunters.  Why  thar  ar  places 
thar  now  whar  the  deer  ar  tame  as  sheep,  and  whar 
the  bar  don't  care  a  dam  for  nobody !  Fact !  ask 
Chunkey !" 

"  That  is  very  remarkable ;  what  is  the  cause!" 

"  'Cause  they've  never  been  hunted  ;  no,  sir  ;  never 
hearn  the  crack  of  a  rifle  nor  the  yelp  of  a  dog  ;  why 
thar  ar  more  nor  a  hundred  lakes  and  brakes  in  them 
diggins,  that  hain't  never  been  pressed  by  no  mortfil 
'ceptin'  varmints.  You  know  more  nor  half  the  coun 
try  is  overflowed  in  the  winter,  and  t'other  half,  whica 


120  A    SWIM   FOR  A   DEER. 

is  a  darned  sight  the  biggest,  is  covered  with  cane,  pal 
metto  and  other  fixins  ; — why  it  stands  to  reason,  and 
in  course  no  man  ever  had  hunted  'em. — Why,  sir, 
when  I  first  went  to  the  Creek" — 

"Let  the  Creek  run,  Jim  ;  tell  us  about  the  bear  !" 
"Well,  sir,  the  bar  war  very  promiscuous  indeed, 
and  some  of  the  old  hees  war  mighty  mellifluous,  I  tell 
you.     I  had  no  sens  about  bar  then,  but  thar  warn't  no 
cabin  or  camp  in  the  whole  settlement,  and  in  course  I 
soon  larnt  thar  natur  by  livin'  'mongst  'em.     A  bar, 
Capting,  an  old  he  bar,  ain't  no  candidate  or  other 
good-natured  greenhorn  to  stand  gougin'  and  treating. 
Oh  no,  he  ain't,  but  he's  as  rarnstugenous  an  animal  as 
a  log-cabin  loafer  in  the  dog  days,  jist  about,  and  if  a 
stranger  fools  with  him  he'll  get  sarved  like  that  white 
gal  what  come  into  my  settlement." 
"How  was  that,  Jim?" 
"  Why  perfectly  ruinated,  as  Buck  Brien  says." 

"Xou  don't  mean  to  say  Jim,  that  you" 

"  Yes,  dam'd  if  I  diddent.     Ask  Chunkey,  or" 

"  Oh,  I  am  satisfied  with  the  girl.  Go  on  with  the 
bear." 

"Well,  let's  licker — (after  drinking) — a  bar  is  a 
consaity  animal,  but  as  far  as  his  sens  do  go  he's  about 
as  smart  as  any  other  animal ;  arter  that,  the  balance 
is  clear  fat  and  fool.  I  have  lived  'mongst  'em,  and 
know  ther  natur.  I  have  killed  as  many  as  seven  in  a 
day,  and  smartly  to  the  rise  of  sixty  in  a  season.  Arter 
I'd  been  on  the  Creek  about  two  months,  up  comes 
the  Governor  and  Chunkey ;  the  Governor  'tended  like 
he  wanted  to  see  how  I  come  on  with  the  clearin' ;  but. 


A    SWIM   FOR   A   DEER.  121 

sir,  he  were  arter  a  spree,  and  I  knoe'd  it,  or  wTiy  did 
he  bring'  Chunkey?  Every  thing  looked  mighty  well; 
the  negers  looked  fat  and  slick  as  old  Belcher  in  catfish 
season.  I'd  done  cut  more  nor  two  hundred  acres  of 
cane,  and  had  the  rails  on  the  ground.  I'd  done" 

"  Come,  Jim,  keep  the  track  !" 

"  Well,  Capting,  they  war  mighty  savagerous  arter 
likkcr;  they'd  been  fightin'  the  stranger*  mightly 
comin'  up,  and  war  perfectly  wolfish  arter  some  har  of 
the  dog,  and  dam'd  the  drop  did  I  have  ;  so  I  started 
two  negers  with  mules  and  jugs  to  the  pint  (Princeton, 
Washington  county,)  and  the  ox  team  arter  a  barrel. 
Well,  sir,  the  day  arter,  the  jugs  come,  and  we  darted 
on  'em,  (giving  a  sigh)  but  lord,  what  war  two  jugs  in 
sick  a  crowd  ?  They  jist  kept  Chunkey  from  dyin',  as 
he  was  so  dry  he  had  the  rattles ;  next  day  the  barrel 
come,  and  then  we  &rae£-ovienned  up  to  it  in  airnest. 
You  know  what  kind  of  man  Chunkey  is  when  he  gits 
started — if  he  commences  talkin',  singin',  or  whistlin', 
no  matter  which,  you'd  jist  as  well  try  and  stop  the 
Mississippi  as  him.  Why  I've  knoed  him  to  whistle 
three  days  and  three  nights  on  a  stretch, — the  Gover 
nor  couldent  eat  nor  drink  for  Chunkey's  whistlin', 
and  at  last  he  gits  mad,  and  that's  the  last  thing  he 
does  with  any  body  what  he  likes,  and,  says  he  to 
Chunkey — 

"'Chunkey,  you  have  kept  me  awake  two  nights  a 
whistlin,  and  you  must  stop  it  to  night,  or  you  or  me 
must  quit  the  plantation.'" 

*  A  barrel  of  whiskey  is  called  a  "  stranger,"  from  the  fact  that  it  it 
brought  from  a  distance,  there  being  none  made  in  the  country. 


122  A   SWIM   FOR  A   DEER. 

"  '  Chunkey  said,  '  Governor  I  don't  want  to  put  you 
to  no  trouble,  but  I  can't  stop  in  the  middle  of  a  chune, 
and  as  you  have  known  the  plantation  longer  than  me, 
I  expect  you  can  leave  it  with  lest  trouble.' 

"  The  Governor  jist  roar'd,  and  gin  Chunkey  a  new 
gun  and" 

"  Stop,  Jim,  you  have  forgot  the  bear." 

"  Well,  whar  was  I,  Capting-^oh,  I  remember,  now! 
Well,  when  the  barrel  come  we  did  lumber ;  Chunkey 
he  soon  commenced  singin',  and  I  to  thinkin'  about  that 
white  gal.  We  went  on  that  way  nigh  a  week,  and 
then  cooled  off.  One  mornin',  I  and  Chunkey  had  gone 
down  to  the  creek  to  git  a  bait  of  water,  and  I  knoed 
the  bar  would  be  thar,  as  it  war  waterin'  time  with 
them." 

"  Why  Jim,  have  they  a  particular  time  to  water  ?" 

"  In  course  they  has  ;  they  come  to  water  at  a  cer 
tain  place,  and  jist  as  reglar  as  a  parson  to  his  eatin' ; 
every  bar  has  his  waterin'  place,  and  he  comes  and  goes 
in  the  same  path  and  in  the  same  foot  tracks,  always, 
until  he  moves  his  settlement :  and  jist  you  break  a 
cane,  or  limb,  or  move  a  chunk  or  stick  near  his  trail, 
and  see  how  quick  he'll  move  his  cabin !  Oh  yes,  a  bar 
is  mighty  particlar  about  sich  things — that's  his  sens — 
that's  his  trap  to  find  out  if  you  are  in  his  settlement. 
Why,  Capting,  I  have  watched  'em" 

"  Jim,  you  have  left  yourself  and  Chunkey  on  the 
bank  of  the  creek,  '  a  waterin'.'  Are  you  going  to  stay 
there  ?" 

"  Well,  we  set  down  on  the  bank  and  took  our  stand 
opposite  the  biggest  kind  of  sign,  and  sure  enough,  pre- 


A    SWIM   FOR   A   DEER.  123 

sently  down  he  come  ;  a  bar  don't  lap  water  like  a  dog ; 
no,  they  sucks  it  like  a  hog.  You  jist  ought  to  see  him 
rais  his  nose  and  smell  the  wind.  Well,  he  seed  us, 
and  with  that  he  ris  !  He  war  a  whopper,  I  tell  you  ! 
He  looked  like  a  big  burn,  and  he  throw'd  them  arms 
about  awful,  honey.  It  war  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty  yards  to  him,  but  I  knoed  he  were  my  meat 
without  an  accident,  so  I  let  drive,  and  he  took  the 
creek — then  out  he  went  and  scampered  up  the  bank 
mighty  quick,  and  then  sich  a  ratlin'  among  cane,  sich 
a  growlin'  and  snortin',  sich  a  breakin'  of  saplins  and 
vines,  I  reckon  you  never  did  hear  !  I  knoed,  in  course, 
I  had  him.  I  throwcd  a  log  in  and  paddled  across — 
found  his  trail,  and  lots  of  har  and  fat,  but  no  blood !" 

"  That  was  very  strange,  Jim  ;  how  did  you  account 
for  that?" 

"  Why  he  were  too  fat  to  bleed !  Oh,  you  think  I 
am  foolin'  you,  but  you  ask  Chunkey.  It  is  frequently 
the  case.  I  follcred  his  trail  about  a  quarter  and  a  half 
a  quarter,  and  thar  he  lay ;  so  I  jist  hollered  to  Chunkey 
to  git  two  negers  and  a  yoke  of  steers  to  take  him  to 
the  house.  How  much  do  you  reckon  he  weighed?" 

"  I  have  no  idea,  Jim." 

"Now,  sir,  he  weighed,  without  head,  skin,  or  entrails, 
four  hundred  and  ninety-three  pounds,  and  his  head 
sixty  pounds  !  You  don't  believe  me  !  Well,  just  ask 
Chunkey  if  I  haint  killed  'em  smartly  over  seven  hun 
dred  pounds  !  Killin'  him  sorter  got  my  blood  up,  and 
I  determined  to  have  another.  Chunkey  had  been 
jerkin'  it  to  the  licker  gourd  mighty  smart,  and  was 
jest  right.  '  Chunkey,'  says  I,  '  let's  gin  it  to  another  " 


124  A   SWIM   FOK   A   DEER. 

'  Good  as -,'  says  Chunkey.  '  Who  cars  for  ex 
penses  ?  a  hundred  dollar  bill  aint  no  more  in  my  pocket 
nor  a  cord  of  wood !'  With  that  we  started  down  to 
the  Bend ;  we  haddent  been  thar  long  when  in  comes 
an  old  buck ;  he  was  a  smasher,  and  one  horn  were 
broke  off.  I  telled  Chunkey  now's  his  time,  as  I  skorird 
to  toch  him  arter  killin'  a  bar.  Chunkey  lathered  away, 
and  ca  chunk!  he  went  into  the  creek ;  he  then  gin  him 
a  turn  with  t'other  barrel ;  the  buck  wabbled  about  a 
time  or  two  and  sunk,  jist  at  the  head  of  the  little  raft 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  clearin'.  I  know'd  he'd  lodged 
agin  the  drift,  and  determined  to  have  him,  and  if  you'll 
believe  me,  I'd  been  workin'  at  the  gourd  since  I'd 
killed  the  bar.  I  pulled  off  my  coat  and  jest  throwed 
myself  in  ;  I  swimd  out  to  the  place  and  div — you  know 
the  current  are  might  rapid  thar.  Well,  I  found  him, 

yes, if  I  diddent.  But,  Moses  !  warn't  I  in  a  tight 

place  that  time  ?  Well,  I  reckon  I  were.  I'd  been 
willin'  to  fite  the  biggest  he  on  the  creek,  and  gin  him 
the  fust  bite,  to  have  been  out !" 

"  Why,  Jim,  what  was  the  matter  ?" 

"  Arter  I'd  got  in,  I  couldent  get  out — that  was  the 
matter  !  You  see  the  drift  were  a  homogification  of  old 
Cyprus  logs,  vines,  and  drift-wood  of  evry  description, 
for  nigh  three  hundred  yards  long,  and  the  creek  runs 
under  thar  like  it  was  arter  somebody ;  the  trees  and 
vines,  and  prognostics  of  all  sorts,  ar  sorter  nit  together 
like  a  sock,  and  you  couldent  begin  to  get  through  'em. 
Well,  Capting,  I  thought  my  time  had  come,  and  I 
knowed  it  war  for  killin'  that  cub  what  I  tcJ'.cd  you 
about.  And,  sir,  it  would  have  come  if  it  b^ddent  been 


A    SWIM   FOR   A   DEER.  125 

for  the  sorritude  I  felt  arterwards.  You  see,  the  young 
cub  was  standin'  in  the  corner  of  the  fence  eatin'  roastin' 
ears,  and  I  was  goin'  to  the" 

"  But,  Jim,  you  have  told  that  once,  and  I  don't  want 
to  hear  it  again." 

"  Well,  I  tried  to  rise,  but  I'd  as  well  tried  to  rise 
down'ard.  I  then  tried  to  swim  up  'bove  the  raft,  but 
I  found  from  the  way  the  logs  and  vines  ware  tearin' 
the  extras  off  me,  that  I  were  goin'  further  under,  and 
I  was  gettin'  out  of  wind  very  fast.  I  knowed  thar  was 
but  one  chance,  and  that  was  to  go  clean  through  !  So 
I  busted  loose  and  set  my  paddles  to  goin'  mightily ; 
presently  my  head  bumped  agin  the  drift !  I  div  agin, 
and  kept  my  paddles  a  lumberin' !  Chunk !  my  head 
went  agin  a  log,  and  then  I  knowed  the  thing  were 
irrefrangably  out,  but  I  div  agin,  still  workin'  on  my 
oars  smartly,  until  I  hung  agin  !  '  Good  bye,  Chunkey ! 
— farewell,  Governor,'  says  I.  But,  Capting,  I  were 
all  the  time  tryin'  to  do  something.  Things  had  begun 
to  look  speckled,  green,  and  then  omniferous  ;  but  findin' 
I  were  not  gone  yet,  by  the  way  I  were  kickin'  and 
pawin',  and  knowin'  I  were  goin'  someurfiere,  and  ex- 
pectin'  to  the  devil,  there  aint  no  tellin'  how  long  or 
powerful  I  did  work !  The  fust  thing  I  recollect  artcr 
that,  was  gittin'  a  mouthful  of  wind  !  Fact !  I'd  done, 
gone  clean  through,  and  were  hangin'  on  to  a  tree 
below  the  raft !  But,  sir,  I  were  mighty  weak,  and 
couldent  tell  a  stump  from  an  old  he,  and  'spected 
smartly  for  some  time  that  I  were  in  the  yother  world, 
and  commenced  an  excuse  for  comin'  so  onexpectedly ! 

However,  presently  I  got  sorter   right,  and  when  I 

H 


126  A    SWIM   FOR   A    DEER. 

found  I  were  safe,  I  reckon  you  never  did  see  a  man 
feel  so  unanimous  in  your  life,  and  I  made  the  water  fly 
for  joy." 

"  Well,  Jim,  what  had  become  of  Chunkey  !  He  did 
not  leave  you !" 

"  Yes, if  he  diddent !  He'd  commenced  gittin' 

dry  afore  he  shot  the  deer;  and  when  Chunkey  wants 
a  drink,  if  his  daddy  was  drounin',  Chunkey  would  go 
to  the  licker  gourd  afore  he'd  go  to  his  daddy.  I  went 
to  the  house,  and  thar  he  was  settin'  at  the  table,  jist 
a  rattlin'  his  teeth  agin  the  bar's  ribs ;  the  greese  war 
runnin'  off  his  chin  ;  he  held  a  tin  cup  in  one  hand  'bout 
half  full  of  licker  ;  his  head  were  sorter  throwd  back  ; 
he  was  breathin'  sorter  hard,  his  eye  set  on  the  Gover 
nor,  humpin'  himself  on  politics.  '  Dam  the  specie 
kurrency,'  says  Chunkey,  '  it  aint  no  account,  and  I'm 
agin  it.  When  we  had  good  times,  I  drank  five-dollar- 
a-gallon  brandy,  and  had  pockets  full  of  money.'  '  But,' 
says  the  Governor,  '  you  bought  the  brandy  on  a  credit, 
and  never  paid  for  it !'  '  What's  the  difference  ?'  asks 
Chunkey  !  '  Them  what  I  bought  it  from  never  paid  for 
it ;  they  bought  it  on  a  credit  from  them  foreigners,  and 
never  paid  for  it,  and  them  fureigners,  you  say,  are  a 
pack  of  scoundrels,  and  I  go  in  for  ruinin'  'em,  so  far 
as  good  licker  is  concarned.'  '  You  are  drunk,'  says 

the  Governor,  and  then but,  Capting,  you  look 

sleepy ;  let's  licker  and  go  to  bed." 

"  No,  I  am  not  sleepy,  Jim." 

•'  Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  how  I  sarved  Chunkey  for 
leavin'  me  under  the  raft.  Moses  !  diddent  I  pay  him 
oack?  Did  I  ever  tell  you  'bout  takm'  Chunkey  out  on 


A   SWIM   FOR   A   DEER.  127 

Sky  Lake,  makin'  him  drunk,  takin1  his  gun  and  knife 
away  from  him,  and  a  puttin'  him  to  sleep  in  a  panter's 
nest?" 

"  No,  you  never  did;  but  was  you  not  apprehensive 
they  would  kill  him  ?" 

"  Apple — hell !  No  !  If  they'd  commenced  bitin' 
Chunkey,  they'd  have  been  looed,  as  that's  a  game 
Chunkey  invented!  But  here  he  comes;  and  if  you 
mention  it  afore  him,  it  puts  the  devil  in  him.  Let's 
licker." 

[The  story  of  how  Jim  "  sarved  Chunkey"  follows.] 
44 


128  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

«  Er — a — hoo  ! " 

"  Wy,  it's  you — yerself,"  continued  the  Yankee, 
approaching  him  cautiously — "  and  yer've  made  noise 
enough  to  skeer  the  divil,  or  stop  a  camp-meet'n  !" 

As  he  placed  his  hand  upon  the  snorer's  breast,  a 
sudden  "  whoof!"  escaped  him,  and  the  Yankee  could 
bear  no  more ! 

"Help,  yere!" 

»  Pshe — eu !" — said  the  snorer. 

"Do/" 

«  Ah — shwoo " 

«  For  God's  sake !" 

«  Hup kir " 

«  Cap'n — help — yere!  The  man's  a  dyin' — I  say, 
Mister  ! — Murder ! — help !" 

By  this  time  the  cabin  was  in  a  roar — for  the  scene  in 
its  early  stages  had  awakened  most  of  the  crowd,  who 
had  enjoyed  it  right  heartily.  The  snorer  turned  over 
suddenly  upon  his  side,  and  the  effect  awakened  him. 

"What's  the  row,  neighbour?"  he  inquired  of  the 
Yankee,  who  stood  over  him  with  a  light. 

"Raow*?  Thunder  and  lightnin' ! — ain't  yer  dead 
yit !  Wai,  I  reck'n  you're  one  uv  'em,  stranger !  Mishi- 
gan  thunder's  a  fool  to  yur'e  snorin' — by  grashus !  Ef 
I  sleep  in  this  yere  coop  to-night,  cuss  my  pictur!"  he 
added — and,  in  spite  of  all  the  captain's  assurances,  he 
went  out  upon  the  deck,  where  he  lay  till  morning. 

At  daylight  he  landed — and,  as  he  parted  with  the 
captain,  he  declared  that  he  had  "heern  powerful  thun 
der  in  his  time,  but  that  chap's  snoring  beat  all  the 
high-pressures  he  ever  heerd — jest  as  easy  as  open  and 
shet!' 

G.  P.  B. 


"WOBOT  BARWYMAW." 

AN   ELECTION-DAY   SCENE,    IN    BOSTON. 

THE  annual  election  for  city  officials  occurred  in  the 
good  city  of  Boston,  on  Monday.  There  were  no  less 
than  '  six  Richmonds  in  the  field,'  on  this  occasion,  and 
the  prospect  appeared  promising — at  noon — that  before 
sunset,  a  Mayor  and  Common  Council  would  be  elect 
ed  for  the  current  political  year,  provided  they  didn't 
miss  it.  If  not  instructive,  it  was  at  least  amusing  to  be 
present  an  hour  at  the  polls.  Take  an  example. 

A  quiet-looking,  decent  enough  kind  of  man  ap 
proaches  the  door  of  one  of  the  Ward  rooms.  He  is 
clumsily  dressed,  it  is  true,  and  is  evidently  a  stranger 
in  these  parts.  His  antiquated  suit  and  apparent  inno 
cence  of  the  existence  of  such  an  article  of  wearing 
apparel  as  a  pair  of  boots — his  long-tailed  and  longer- 
sleeved  '  blue,'  his  low-crowned  {  felt' — all  indicated 
plainly  that  he  wasn't  '  bred  in  the  town.'  He  sees  the 
crowd  and  steps  over  the  way.  Some  half-a-score  of 
worthies  are  watching  him,  and  a  rush  is  made  as  he 
arrives  near  the  door. 

"  Fresh  water  ticket,  sir?"  bawls  a  vote  distributor, 
m  a  greasy  coat  and  slouched  hat,  who  looks  for  all  the 
world  as  if  he  hadn't  been  within  hailing  distance  of 
any  water — fresh  or  foul — for  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

"  Cold  water  ticket,  sir  .-"'inquires  a  one-eyed  man, 
who  sports  a  particularly  red  nose  below  it. 


130  CHUNKEY'S  FIGHT 

"Agreed,"  says  I,  and  then  we  bulged.  Capting, 
youv'e  hearn  Jem  say  he's  hard  of  hearin'  ?  Well,  he 
is,  sometimes,  'specially  when  he  don't  want  to  hear; 
but  that  mornin'  he  was  wide  awake  all  over,  and  could 
have  hearn  an  old  he  grunt  in  a  thunder  storm !  "  I'll 
carry  the  horn,  Chunkey;  if  you  blow  I  can't  hear  you, 
and  when  I  want  you  I'll  blow,  and  you  can." 

I  dident  'spect  anything  then,  but  you'll  see. 

Well,  we  had  our  big  guns,  them  the  Governor  gin 
us ;  they  throw  twelve  to  the  pound,  and  war  made  by 
that  man  what  lives  in  Louisville — what's  his  name  ? 
He  promised  to  send  me  a  deer  gun  gratis  for  two 
young  panters,  but  he  aint  done  it.  Jem's  gun  were 
in  bar  order  that  mornin',  and  if  you'd  jest  say  varmint, 
above  your  breath,  click  it  would  go,  cockin'  itself. 
We  haddint  crossed  the  creek  two  hundred  yards  afore 
yelp,  yelp,  went  old  Rambler.  "Cuss  them  dogs!" 
says  Jem,  "that's  a  deer?"  Big  Solomon  went  to  ex- 
amin'  the  sign.  "  No  it  aint,  massa  Jem — it's  a  panter 
sure! — look  at  her  long  foot  and  sharp  nail,  and  see 
hear  whar  he's  been  ridin'  pigs  !  Cuss  his  saitful  coun 
tenance!"  "Its  a  wolf,"  says  Jem,  "or  a  dog!  Run 
down  to  the  hossin-gum  tree,  Chunkey,  and  I'll  go  to 
the  Cypress  crossin'  log ;  he's  bound  to  go  one  way  or 
the  yether,  to  git  out."  Well,  I  husseled  off  to  the 
hossin-gum  and  Jem  to  the  foot  log,  and  afore  we  got  to 
our  stands  the  dogs  had  him  gwine  like  a  streak;  away 
he  went  down  to  the  Pint,  and  I  knowed  that's  no  place 
for  him,  and  presently  I  heard  'em  comin'  back — nearer 
and  nearer — here  they  is ! — don't  they  make  the  snov» 
fly,  and  jest  look  at  him !  Look  at  them  yaller  eyes ! — 


WITH   THE    PANTHERS.  131 

them  ears  laid  back,  and  them  meat  hooks  a  shinin' ! 
Aint  he  stretchin'  himself?  Aint  them  dogs  talkin'  to 
him  with  "tears  in  their  eyes !"  Yes  they  is,  hoss,  and 
now  I'll  git  him! — Bang!  Oh,  dam  you!  you've  got  it! 
I  know  you  is !  you  aint  shakin'  that  tail  for  nothin' !  Yes, 
thar's  blood  on  the  snow !  But  aint  he  "gittin'  out  de 
way?"  "Never  mind;  them  dogs  will  suck  him  afore 

he's  much  older,  and  if  they  don't  Jem's  yager  will" 

Bang,  went  Jem's  gun,  and  then  all  were  still.  "  Howdy, 
wolf!  how  do  you  rise,"  says  I,  and  started.  When  I 
got  up  Jem  were  shakin  him.  He  were  a  smasher,  but 
too  full  to  run. 

Arter  lickerin  and  cussin  a  spell,  we  took  a  "bee 
line"  for  Sky  Lake.  Goin  along  we  lickered  freely, 
and  arter  awhile  Jem  said,  "Chunkey,  I  can  slash  you, 
shootin  at  that  knot?"  "Well,  I  reckun  you  can,  Jem," 
says  I,  but  you  know  he  couldent,  Capting.  I  wouldent 
shoot  cause  we  hadent  any  amminition  to  spare. 
"  Keep  them  dogs  in,  and  break  for  the  Forkin-Cypress, 
Sol,"  says  I,  "  and  make  a  cain  camp;  and  Sol,  do  you 
hear,  jest  let  them  dogs  loose,  and  I'll  swaller  you, 
wrong  end  foremost !"  "  Massa  Chunkey  is  risin," 
said  Sol,  and  then  he  busted. 

Lots  of  deer  war  'tinually  passin ;  some  on  'em  stood 
feedin  jist  as  careless  as  a  loafer  with  a  full  belly — they 
kno'ed  they  war  safe.  The  day  was  mighty  clear  and 
yaller  ;  it  warn't  very  cold,  but  still  the  snow  diddent 
melt,  but  floated  sorter  like  turkey  feathers  in  the  wind, 
and  in  the  tall  cane  it  fell  round  us  like  a  fog.  When 
we  got  to  the  Forkin-Cypress,  Sol  soon  had  a  camp- 
done,  and  I  and  Jem  started  to  look  for  sign. 


132  CHUNKEY'S  FIGHT 

We  haddent  been  gone  long  when  I  hearn  Jem'a 
horn,  and  made  to  him  ;  thar  war  a  sign  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree,  and  thar  was  his  track  in  the  snow.  "  Shall  we 
nail  him,  Chunkey  ?"  "In  course"  says  I.  Well,  he 
hollered  to  Sol  to  turn  the  dogs  loose,  and  hear  they 
come ;  they  jest  fell  onto  the  trail  like  a  starved  dog 
on  a  bloody  bone.  They  circled  about  among  the  switch- 
cane  and  priscimmon  bushes  a  long  time  afore  they  could 
make  it  out.  Presently  I  hearn  'em  give  some  short 
licks,  and  I  knowed  he  war  up.  "  Thar's  a  cry  for  you  !" 
Away  they  go,  further  and  further ;  presently  you  can 
jest  hear  'em,  and  then  they  are  clean  gone.  I  hearn 
Jem  shoutin  awhile,  and  then  his  mouth  is  lost  too.  I 
started  on,  spectin  to  meet  em  comin  back,  and  in 
about  an  hour  I  hearn  Jem's  voice — who-whoop.  "  Ah, 
bar,"  says  I  "  whar's  your  friends?"  I  soon  hearn 
Jem  agin,  and  presently  I  hearn  the  dogs,  like  the  ring- 
in'  of  a  cowbell,  a  long  way  off.  They  come  up  the 
ridge,  and  then  bore  off  to  the  thick  cane  on  my  right ; 
then  they  hushed  awhile,  and  I  kno'ed  they's  a  fightin. 
Look  out  dogs  ; — thar,  they  are  gwine  agin  ;  no,  hear 
they  comes  !  Lay  low  and  keep  dark  !  I  put  down 
another  ball  and  stood  for  him.  I  heard  the  cane 
crackin,  and  cocked  my  gun  !  Here  he  comes — here 
he  is !  I  hearn  him  snortin ;  wake  snakes !  Aint  thatlum- 
berin  ?  Thar,  they've  got  him  agin,  and  now  the  fur  flies. 
I  crawled  through  the  cane  tryin  to  get  a  shot  afore 
the  dogs  seen  me.  Thar  they  is,  but  which  is  he  ?  Dam 
that  dog's  head  !  Bang!  Whiff,  whiff,  said  the  bar,  and 
with  that  every  dog  jumped  him.  The  cane's  a  crackin, 
and  the  dogs  a  hollerin.  I  jerked  mybowyerand  plunged 


WITH   THE   PANTHERS.  133 

in,  and  thar  they  war,  hung  together  like  a  swarm  of 
bees  !  Thar  lay  "  Singer"  on  the  ground,  and  limber 
as  a  rag,  and  he  had  the  "  Constitutional"  down.  I  felt 
the  har  risin  on  my  head,  and  the  blood  ticklin  the  end 
of  my  fingers.  I  crept  up  behind  him,  and  zip,  zip,  zip,  I 
took  him  jest  behind  the  shoulder-blade,  and  he  war  done 
fightin.  He  sot  down,  and  sorter  rolled  his  head  from 
side  to  side,  the  blood  runnin  off  his  tongue,  and  his  eyes 
full  of  dirt.  He  haddent  got  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
place  whar  I'd  shot  him.  It  war  a  death  shot,  and 
blinded  him,  and  thar  side  of  him  lay  "  Singer"  and  the 
"  Constitutional,"  two  of  the  best  dogs  in  Jem's  pack. 
H — 1 !  I  gin'  a  shout  and  Jem  answered.  Presently 
I  beam  him  cummin,  blowin  like  a  steamboat,  and  mad 
as  hell ;  he  always  gits  mad  when  he's  tired,  and  when 
he  seen  them  dogs  he  commenced  breathen  mighty  hard, 
and  the  blood  filled  the  veins  in  his  neck  big  as  your 
fingers.  Presently  he  commenced  cussin,  and  then  he 
got  sorter  easy.  Arter  a  while  he  turned  in  and  cleaned 
him ;  we  warn't  more  than  a  quarter  and  a  half  from 
the  camp,  whar  we  soon  got,  both  mighty  hungry  and 
tired.  Sol  cooked  the  liver  jest  to  the  right  pint,  and 
we  giv  it  Jessy.  We  spent  the  balance  of  the  evenin 
in  drinkin,  braggin,  and  eatin  spar  ribs  roasted  brown. 
Jim  made  Sol  sing 

"Oh,  she  waked  me  in  the  mornin,  and  its  broad  day, 
I  looked  for  my  ranu,  and  its  done  gone  away" — 

till  we  went  to  sleep. 

Next  mornin'  when  we  waked  it  war  sorter  cloudy 
and  warm,  and  I  and  Jem  were  cloudy  and  warm  too. 
The  wind  war  blowin'  mightily. 


134  CHUNKEY'S  FIGHT 

"  Now,  Chunkey,  let's  have  a  panter  to-day,  or  no- 


"  All  sot"  says  I. 

Well,  arter  breakfast  Jem  says,  "  Chunkey,  you  must 
take  the  right  side  the  Lake,  and  I'll  take  the  'yether, 
till  we  meet  —  and,  Chunkey,  you  must  rush  ;  it  aint 
more  nor  eight  miles  round,  but  your  side  may  seem  long, 
as  you  aint  usen  to  the  ground.  Let's  licker  out  of  my 
gourd,  you  aint  got  more  nor  you'll  want.  Keep  your 
eye  skinned  for  sign,  and  listen  for  my  horn  !" 

"  Hump  yourself,"  says  I,  and  we  both  darted  —  well, 
I  worked  my  passage  through  cane,  palmetto  and  vines, 
until  I  war  tired  —  I  haddent  hearn  Jem's  horn,  and 
pushed  on  the  harder  to  meet  him  ;  every  once  and  a 
while  I'd  think  hears  the  turn  of  the  Lake,  but  when  I'd 
git  to  the  place,  thar  it  was  stretchin  out  big  as  ever. 
Once  I  thought  I  hearn  Jem's  horn,  but  couldent  quite 
make  it  out.  I  kept  movin'  ;  hours  passed  and  no  Jem 
or  end  of  the  Lake  ;  I'd  seen  lots  of  bar  and  panter 
sign,  lots  of  deer,  and  more  swan,  wild  goose,  and  duck, 
than  you  ever  will  see  ;  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  'em, 
as  I  'spected  I'd  taken  some  wrong  arm  of  the  Lake 
and  war  lost.  It  war  gettin'  towards  night,  and  I 
'spected  I'd  have  to  sleep  by  myself,  but  you  know  I 
diddent  mind  that,  as  I  war  used  to  it.  But  it  war  the 
first  time  in  my  life  that  I'd  bin  lost,  and  that  did 
pester  me  mightily.  Well,  sir,  after  studyin  awhile,  I 
thought  I'd  better  put  back  towards  the  camp,  mighty 
tired  and  discouraged.  I  then  throw'd  my  gourd  round 
to  take  a  drink  of  liker,  and  it  were  filled  with  water  ! 
fact  !  —  Thinks  I,  Chunkey,  you  must  have  been  mighty 


WITH   THE   PANTHERS.  135 

drunk  last  night ;  that  made  me  sorter  low  spirited  like 
a  'oman,  and  my  heart  war  weak  as  water.  It  had 
commenced  gittin  sorter  dark  ;  the  wind  were  hlowin' 
and  groanin'  through  the  trees  and  rivers,  and  the  black 
clouds  were  flyin',  and  I  war  goin'  along  sorter  oneasy 
and  cussin',  when  a  panter  yelled  out,  close  to  me!  I 
turned  with  my  gun  cocked,  but  couldent  see  it ;  pre 
sently  I  hearn  it  agin,  and  out  it  come,  and  then  an 
other  !  "  Here's  hell !"  said  I,  takin'  a  crack  and  mis- 
sin'  to  a  sartainty ;  and  away  they  darted  through  the 
cane.  I  drap'd  my  gun  to  load,  and,  by  the  great  Jack 
son,  there  warn't  a  full  load  of  powder  in  my  gourd  ! — 
I  loaded  mighty  carefully,  and  started  on  to  pick  out 
some  holler  tree  to  sleep  in.  Every  once  and  awhile 
I'd  git  a  glimpse  of  the  panters  on  my  trail.  "  Pan- 
ters,"  says  I,  "  I'll  make  a  child's  bargain  with  you;  if 
you  will  let  me  alone,  you  may  golong ; — and  if  you 
don't  here's  a  ball  into  the  head  of  one  of  ye'er,  and  this 

knife  ! husk,  if  my  knife  warn't  gone,  I  wish  I  may 

never  taste  bar's  meat  ?  I  raised  my  arm,  trimblin'  like 
a  leaf,  and  says  I,  "  Jem  ! — I'll  have  your  melt  /"  Well, 
I  war  in  trouble  sure ! — I  thought  I  war  on  the  Tchule 
a  Leta  Lake,  and  imtched  ! 

Well  I  did !  Oh,  you  may  larph,  but  jist  imagin' 
yourself  lost  in  the  cane  on  Sky  Lake,  (the  cane  on  Sky 
Lake  is  some — thirty  miles  long,  from  one  to  three  miles 
wide,  thick  as  the  har  on  a  dog's  back,  and  about  thirty 
feet  high !)  out  of  licker,  out  of  pbwder,  your  knife 
gone,  the  ground  kivered  with  snow,  you  very  hungry 
and  tired,  and  two  panters  folkrin your  trail,  and  you'd 
think  you  was  bewitched  too  ! 


136  CHUNKEY'S  FIGHT 

Well,  here  they  come,  never  lettin'  on,  but  makin' 
arrangements  to  have  my  skalp  that  night ;  I  never 
lettin'  on,  but  detarmin'd  they  shouldent.  The  har  had 
been  standin'  on  my  head  for  more  nor  an  hour,  and 
the  sweat  were  gist  rollirf  off  me,  and  that  satisfied  mo 
a  fight  war  a  brewin  atween  me  and  the  panters  !  I 
stopped  two  or  three  times,  thinkin'  they's  gone,  but 
presently  hear  they'd  come,  creepin'  along  through  the 
cane,  and  soon  as  they'd  see  me  they  stop,  lay  down 
roll  over  and  twirl  their  tails  about  like  kittens  playin' ; 
I'd  then  shout,  shake  the  cane,  and  away  they'd  go. 
Oh,  they  thought  they  had  me  !  In  course  they  did,  and 
I  detarmined  with  myself,  if  they  did  let  me  go,  if  they 
diddent  attack  an  onarmed  man,  alone  and  lost,  without 
licker,  dogs,  powder  or  knife,  that  the  very  fust  time  I 
got  a  panter  up  a  tree,  with  my  whole  pack  at  the  root, 
my  licker  gourd  full,  and  I  half  full,  my  twelve-to-the- 
pound-yager  loaded,  and  my  knife  in  shavin  order,  I'd 
let  him  go !  Yes,  dairfd  if  I  diddent ! 

But  what  did  they  care  ?  They'd  no  more  feelin'  than 
the  devil !  I  know'd  it  woulddent  do  to  risk  a  fight  in 
the  cane,  and  pushed  on  to  find  an  open  place  whar  I 
could  make  sure  of  my  one  load,  and  rely  on  my  gun 
barrel  arter.  I  soon  found  a  place  whar  the  cane 
drifted,  and  tliar  I  determined  to  stand  and  fight  it  out ! 
Presently  here  they  come ;  and  if  a  stranger  had  seen 
'em,  he'd  a  thought  they  were  playin' !  They'd  jump 
and  squat,  and  bend  their  backs,  lay  down  and  roll, 
and  grin  like  puppys ; — they  kept  gittin'  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  it  wer  gettin'  dark,  and  I  know'd  I  must  let  drive 
at  the  old  he,  'afore  it  got  so  dark  I  coulddent  see  my 


'  I  throw'd  back  my  gun  to  gin  It  to  her,  as  she  come;  the  lick  I  aimed  at  her 

head  struck  across  the  shoulders  and  back,  without  doing  any 

barm,  and  she  had  me!" — Pagt  137. 


WITH   THE    PANTHERS.  137 

sights ;  so  I  jist  dropped  on  one  knee  to  make  sure, 
and  when  I  raised  my  gun,  I  were  all  in  a  trimble !  I 
know'd  that  woulddent  do,  and  ris  ! 

"  You  are  witched,  Chunkey,  sure  and  sartin',"  said 
I.  Arter  bracin'  myself,  I  raised  up  agin  and  fired! 
One  on  'em  sprung  into  the  air  and  gin  a  yell,  and  the 
other  bounded  towards  me  like  a  streak !  Lightin' 
close  to  me,  it  squatted  to  the  ground  and  commenced 
creepin'  towards  me  —  its  years  laid  back,  its  eyes 
turnin'  green,  and  sorter  swimmin'  round  like,  and  the 
end  of  its  tail  tvvistin'  like  a  snake.  I  felt  light  as  a 
cork,  and  strong  as  a  buffalo.  I  seen  her  commence 
slippin'  her  legs  under  her,  and  knew  she  were  gwine 
to  spring.  I  throw'd  back  my  gun  to  gin  it  to  her,  as 
she  come ;  the  lick  I  aimed  at  her  head  struck  across 
the  shoulders  and  back,  without  doing  any  harm,  and 
she  had  me  ! — Rip,  rip,  rip — and  'way  went  my  blanket, 
coat,  and  britches.  She  sunk  her  teeth  into  my  shoulder, 
her  green  eyes  were  close  to  mine,  and  the  froth  from 
her  mouth  were  flyin'  in  my  face  !  !  Moses  !  how  fast  she 
did  fight !  I  felt  the  warm  blood  runnin'  down  my  side 
— I  seen  she  were  arter  my  throat !  and  with  that  I 
grabbed  hern,  and  commenced  pourin'  it  into  her  side 
with  my  fist,  like  cats-a-fightin ! — Rip,  rip,  she'd  take 
me, — diff,  slam,  bang,  I'd  gin  it  to  her — she  fightin'  for 
her  supper,  I  fightin'  for  my  life!  Why,  in  course  it 
war  an  onequal  fight,  but  she  ris  it !  Well,  we  had  it 
round  and  round,  sometimes  one,  and  then  yother  ou 
top,  she  a  growlin'  and  I  a  gruntin' !  We  had  both  com 
menced  gittin'  mighty  tired,  and  presently  she  made  a 
spring,  tryirf  to  git  away  !  Arter  that  thar  warn't  no 


138 


CHUNKEY'S   FIGHT 


mortal  chance  for  her  !  Cause  why,  shi 
I'd  sorter  been  thinkin'  about  sayin' 

"  Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep," 

but  I  knowd  if  I  commenced  it  would  put  her  in  heart, 
and  she'd  riddle  me  in  a  minit,  and  when  she  hollered 
nuff,  I  were  glad  to  my  shoe  soles,  and  had  sich  confi 
dence  in  whippin'  the  fight,  that  /  offered  two  to  one  on 
Chunkey,  but  no  takers  ! 

"  Oh,  dam  you,"  says  I,  a  hittin'  her  a  lick  every 
time  I  spoke,  "  you  are  willin'  to  quit  even  and  divide 
stakes,  are  you  ?"  and  then  round  and  round  we  went 
agin !  You  could  have  hearn  us  blow  a  quarter,  but 
presently  she  made  a  big  struggle  and  broke  my  hold ! 
I  fell  one  way,  and  she  the  other !  She  darted  into  the 
cane,  and  that's  the  last  time  I  ever  hearn  of  that  pan- 
ter ! ! ! 

When  I  sorter  come  to  myself,  I  war  struttin'  and 
thunderirf  like  a  big  he-gobler,  and  then  I  commenced 
examinin'  to  see  what  harm  she'd  done  me  ;  I  war  bit 
powerful  bad  in  the  shoulder  and  arm—y'ist  look  at  them 
scars ! — and  I  were  cut  into  solid  whip  strings ;  but 
when  I  found  thar  warn't  no  danger  of  its  killin'  me,  I 
set  in  to  cussin'.  "  Oh,  you  ain't  dead  yet,  Chunkey  !" 
says  I  "  if  you  are  sorter  wusted,  and  have  whipped  a 
panter  in  a  fair  fight,  and  no  gougin' ;"  and  then  I  cock 
a  doodle  dood  a  spell,  for  joy ! 

When  I  looked  round,  thar  sot  the  old  he,  a  lickin' 
the  blood  from  his  breast !  I'd  shot  him  right  through 
the  breast,  but  sorter  slantindickler,  breakin'  his 
snoulder  blade  into  a  perfect  smash.  I  walked  up  to 
him — 


WITH   THE   PANTHERS.  139 

"  Howdy,  panter  ?  how  do  you  do  ?  how  is  missis 
panter,  and  the  little  panters  ?  how  is  your  consarns  in 
gineral  ?  Did  you  ever  hearn  tell  of  the  man  they  calls 
'  Chunkey  ?'  born  in  Kaintuck  and  raised  in  Missis 
sippi?  death  on  a  bar,  and  smartly  in  a  panter  fight? 
If  you  diddent,  look,  for  Pm  he!  I  kills  bar,  whips  pan 
ters  in  a  fair  fight ;  I  walks  the  water,  I  out-bellars  the 
thunder,  and  when  I  gets  hot,  the  Mississippi  hides 

itself!  I — I Oh,  you  thought  you  had  me,  did  you? 

— dam  you  !  But  you  are  a  gone  sucker,  now.  I'll  have 
your  melt,  if  I  never  gits  home,  so" 

"  Look  out,  Capting !  here's  the  place !  make  the 
skift  fast  to  that  Cyprus  log.  Take  care  them  oars, 
Abe  !  Spring  out  and  oncupple  the  dogs,  and  take  car 
they  don't  knock  them  guns  overboard.  Now,  Capting, 
we  will  have  a  deer  movin'  afore  you  can  tell  who's 
your  daddy. 


A  YANKEE 

THAT  COULDN'T  TALK  SPANISH. 

BY  JOHN  A.  STUART,  ESQ.  OF  SOUTH  CAROLINA. 


The  late  editor  of  the  American  side  of  the  New  Orleans  "  Bee,"-— 
Alexander  C.  Bullitt,  Esq.  now  of  the  "  Picayune," — occasionally 
indulges  in  a  flight  of  fancy  (which  he  appropriately  terms  "  bal- 
loonery,")  that  would  provoke  a  laugh  under  the  very  ribs  of  death. 
His  "  quips  and  sentences,  and  paper  pellets  of  the  brain,"  are  irre 
sistibly  diverting.  He  has  burst  more  waistbands,  and  split  more 
jackets,  than  we  should  care  to  pay  for,  judging  from  the  damage 
sustained  in  our  own  proper  person.  We  were  wont  to  think  that 
Bullitt,  with  Col.  Greene  of  the  Boston  "Morning  Post,"  and  Pren 
tice  of  the  Louisville  "Journal,"  would  surely  be  the  death  of  us; 
but  we  never  imagined  ourselves  in  extremis  until  they  were  joined 
by  Stuart,  of  the  Charleston  "Mercury," — an  editor  who  rejoices  in 
an  extraordinary  fertility  of  imagination,  combined  with  great  flu 
ency  and  felicity  of  expression.  Subjoined  is  a  specimen  of  his 
style,  to  comprehend  which,  we  must  premise  that  the  United  States 
ship  Alert  some  time  since  affronted  the  Mexicans  at  San  Diego,  Cali 
fornia,  it  being  alleged  that  she  threw  overboard  her  ballast  into  the 
harbour,  and  when  remonstrated  with,  landed  a  boat's  crew,  and 
spiked  the  guns  of  the  fort !  These  facts  induced  the  following  com 
ments  by  Stuart : — 

THIS,  as  Matty  Griggs  said  when  the  negro  ate  his 
oysters  and  flung  the  shells  into  the  coffee  pot,  "  this 
is  rayther  harsh  treatment ;"  and  to  muk  /t  the  matter 
worse,  the  local  governor  declares  in  his  despatch  to 
president  Santa  Anna,  that  when  his  vicc-cxce^kaza, 
after  these  Yankee  ad  captandums,  sent  to 
140 


A  YANKEE   THAT   COULDN'T   TALK   iPANISH.    141 

the  little  Alert  meant  by  such  sluttish  behaviour,  all  the 
reply  he  could  get  from  our  sea  dog  of  a  lieutenant 
was,  that  "  he  couldn't  talk  Spanish." — Provoking ! 
Empty  a  cart  load  of  dead  cats  in  a  gentleman's  gate 
way,  and  then  leap  his  fence  and  muzzle  the  yard  dog 
o  keep  him  from  barking  !  Shocking  conduct !  Pull 
a  Mexican's  grand  functionary's  mahogany-handled 
nose,  and  then  tie  his  hands  behind  his  back  to  bar  his 
striking !  Aggravating  to  a  degree — and  decidedly 
odd  ! — Scrape  your  boots  on  his  soup-plate,  and  kick 
away  spoons,  ladle,  knife,  fork,  and  bottle,  and  all  things 
comeatable,  battleable,  and  head  flingatable  !  Annoy 
ing  certainly !  Cork  his  mouth  with  old  Junk,  and 
then  draw  his  teeth  and  sew  up  his  jaw !  Unkind,  to 
say  the  least  of  it !  Kick  his  bustle,  cut  off  his  queue, 
and  pull  off  his  wig,  and  pick  his  pistol  out  of  his  pocket 
and  spit  in  the  pan — and  when  he  makes  his  bow  com 
plimentary,  and  his  bridling  interrogatory  with  his  key- 
hauties  and  ore  rotundo  non  diminuendoes  to  your  sha 
dow,  and  hismillessimal  addendoes  to  your  vitality,  and 
his  heigh  signores !  and  are-ye-done-dine-oh's — for  you 
to  bid  him  to  be  muda,  and  strike  flat  the  thick  rotun 
dity  of  his  grandiloquent  protestandoes — and  shut  up 
his  barrel  organ,  by  shifting  your  ear  trumpet  into  a 
speaking  trumpet,  and  bawling  into  the  pricked  ears  of 
the  astonished  Don  Michael  Tureen  or  Don  Ferolo 
Gridiron  Hidalgo,  to  take  the  locked  jaw  and  roll  up  his 
molasses  sucker — for  you  can't  talk  Spanish  ?  Uncour- 
teous — and  decidedly  impolite!  Hold  your  hammer 
thus — and  changing  your  segar  while  he  asks  you  mo 
destly  why  you  are  spiking  his  great  gun,  pufFthe  smoke 


142   A   YANKEE   THAT   COULDN'T   TALK    SPANISH. 

in  his  face,  and  tell  him  you  don't  know  what  he  is  gab 
bling  about — can't  talk  Spanish — and  hammer  on? 
Prodigiously  cool!  Enough  to  make  the  cannonized 
leg  of  the  Presidential  Unipede  (the  very  crus  which  De 
Joinville  disjointed  at  Vera  Cruz)  burst  its  cerements — 
unhosed  from  the  wooden  boot  of  its  coffined  calf — cut 
dirt  from  its  grave — lifting  its  heel  to  high  heaven — and 
hopping  stump  downwards,  crook  its  skeleton  toes  in 
convulsive  indignation : — and  it  will  tax  all  the  diplo 
matic  tact  of  Major  General  Waddy  Thompson,  to  lay 
the  perturbed  ghost  of  the  resurrectioned  regiment  of 
foot,  kicking  at  us  with  all  its  heroic  sok,  tooth  and 
toe-nails  ! ! — Nous  verrons. 


"OLD  SENSE,"  OF  ARKANSAS, 

BY   "N."   OP    THAT   ILK. 


For  many  years  past  the  writer  of  the  following  anecdote  has  been  one 
of  the  most  popular  correspondents  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  as 
well  as  almost  the  only  American  writer  who  figures  to  manifest 
advantage  in  the  English  Sporting  Magazines.  His  pen  is  usually 
devoted  to  the  best  interests  of  the  American  Turf,  sporting  intelli 
gence,  etc. ;  but  his  humorous  letters  over  the  signature  of  "  Col. 
Pete  Whetstone,"  have  achieved  for  that  personage  an  identity  a* 
clear  as  Samivel  Weller,  junior,  or  Messrs.  Quirk,  Gammon  &  Snap. 
His  communications  are  frequently  interlarded  with  outline  portraits 
like  the  following : — 

SAM  LAUGHMAN. — "Who's  Sam  Laughman?"  every  body  will  ask. 
Well,  Sam  is  the  Mayor  of  Uniontown,  to  which  office  he  has  been 
thrice  elected  by  the  suffrages  of  his  constituents ;  and  Uniontown 
is  the  prettiest  town  in  all  Mississippi — it  can  boast  of  the  only  spe 
cie-paying  bank  in  the  State — has  a  town-hall,  church,  many  other 
public  buildings,  and  a  race  track,  with  everything  else  denoting  a 
Christianized  community.  But  to  Sam's  story : — A  chap  walking 
ont,  came  across  "  Old  Mose,"  sitting  in  the  broiling  sun,  fishing. 
"  Well,  Mose,"  said  he,  "  what  in  the  world  are  you  doing  thar  ?" 
"Fiffin!"  (fishing).  "What?"  "Fiffinl"  "Fishing— well,  what'* 
the  reason  you  can't  talk  ?  what's  in  your  mouth  ?"  "  Oh,  nuffin  but 
warns  (worms)  for  bait  1"  I  hallooed  for  old  Izaak,  when  Sam  opened 
his  "  wum"  box. 

But  two  of  N's  favourite  "  characters  "  are  "  OLD  SENSE,"  and  DAN 
LOONEY,  of  whom  the  reader  may  form  an  idea  by  the  subjoined 
sketch. 

THE  way  the  natives  sometimes  talk  here  is  amus 
ing.     The  following  dialogue  lately  occurred  here  on 
the  Devil's  Fork  of  the  Little  Red  (River.)    Old  Sense 
45  143 


144  "OLD  SENSE," 

met  Dan  Looney ;  they  were  strangers  to  each  other. 
Says  "  Old  Sense," 

"Good  morning,  sir;  are  you  well?" 

"  If  you  call  a  man  '  well'  that  has  run  twenty  miles, 
I  am  that" 

"  Did  you  see  any  bear  ?" 

"  If  you  call  a  big  black  thing  about  the  size  of  PETE 
WHETSTONE'S  black  mar,  or  boss,  '  a  bar?  I  did." 

"  Had  you  a  gun  !" 

"  Now  you  hit  me." 

"  Did  you  draw  blood  ?" 

"  Do  you  call  my  double,  double  handsfull  of  brains, 
blood?" 

"Had  you  a  dog?" 

"  Is  Old  Bose  a  dog  ?" 

"Did  you  skin  him?" 

"  Well,  if  you  call  a  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves,  with  a 
Knife  seventeen  inches  in  the  blade,  among  ribs  and 
meat,  skinning,  I  was  thar  !" 

"Was  he  fat?" 

"  Do  you  call  cutting  eighteen  inches  on  the  ribs,/aZ?" 

"  Did  you  pack  him  in  ?" 

"  If  you  call  four  pony  loads  packing,  why  I  packed 
some!" 

"  Light  loads,  I  reckon." 

"  If  four  hundred  pounds  to  a  pony  is  a  light  load, 
they  were  light." 

"  Did  you  eat  any  of  it  ?" 

"  Do  you  call  drinking  a  quart  of  bar's  He,  eating  ?" 

"  You  must  have  meat." 

"  If  you  call  two  thousand  seven  hundred  pounds  of 


OF    ARKANSAS.  145 

clean  meat,  without  a  bone,  safe  inside  of  a  smoke 
house,  meat,  we  have  got  some ."' 

"  They  must  be  fat  at  your  house?'' 

"  Do  you  call  a  candle  fat  ?" 

Here  OLD  SENSE  brought  a  perfect  squeal,  and  swore 
e  had  found  the  very  man  he  had  been  looking  for. 

P.  S.  They  had  closed  a  quarter  race  up  the  last 
accounts. 

With  another  sketch  of  an  incident  in  the  career  of  "  Old  Sense"  and 
his  partner,  we  take  our  leave  of  "  N.  of  Arkansas." 

Since  I  mentioned  Old  Sense,  I'll  tell  you  what  has 
lately  happened  to  him — he  got  a  most  dreadful  flog 
ging.  He  let  his  pony  into  young  Shoulderstrap's 
old  stud,  and  they  had  a  fight,  and  the  pony  was  about 
to  lay  it  on  to  the  old  stud,  when  up  slipped  Shoulder- 
strap,  and  gathered  a  May-pole,  and  had  well  nigh  made 
a  finish  of  poor  Old  Sense — who  left  these  diggins  on 
the  strength  of  it.  God  knows  where  he  is  now — I  don't. 
I  saw  his  partner  'tother  day.  He  is  a  great  big  tall 
fellow,  about  half  Injun;  they  call  him  Doctor,  but  he 
don't  practice  any  except  in  certain  cases  of  necessity. 
Last  summer  he  kept  a  stud  for  old  Mealbag,  and 
stood  him  part  of  his  time  at  old  Squire  Chiney's. 
The  horse  made  a  pretty  good  stand,  and,  from  all 
accounts,  the  doctor  made  another ;  at  any  rate,  him 
and  the  old  Squire  had  a  monstrous  falling  out  about 
the  time  the  season  expired ;  and  had  not  the  Squire 
given  his  better  half  an  awful  flogging,  one  would  have 
been  at  a  loss  to  know  what  the  falling  out  was  about ; 
but  since  it  is  a  fact  that  he  did,  "then  and  there,  with 


146  "OLD  SENSE"  OF  ARKANSAS. 

malice  aforethought,  both  expressed  and  implied,'' 
most  wantonly  and  brutishly  "  pounced"  his  old  wife, 
the  natural  supposition  is,  that  her  and  Old  Sense's 
partner  had  been  too  thick — perhaps  as  thick  as  "  two 
in  a  bed."  But  that  does  not  justify  old  Chiney  in 
beating  the  poor  old  critter  till  the  blood  run,  as  he 
most  certainly  did,  and  sent  her  forth  in  the  world  to 
"  shift  for  herself,"  almost  without  a  "  shift." 


STOKE  STOUT,  OF  LOUISIANA. 

BY  THORPE  AND  PATTERSON,  OF  THE  "  CONCORDIA  INTELLIGENCER.'' 


The  original  "  character"  now  introduced  to  the  reader,  first  made  his 
appearance  in  the  columns  of  the  "  Concordia  Intelligencer,"  a  capi 
tal  weekly  journal  published  in  a  beautiful  village  opposite  the  city 
of  Natchez,  on  the  western  "  coast"  of  the  Mississippi  river.  Whe 
ther  the  creation  of  Thorpe,  or  Patterson  his  partner,  this  deponent 
saith  not :  but  each  has  written  so  much  and  so  well,  as  to  care  very 
little  whether  we  or  the  public  "put  the  saddle  on  the  right  horse." 
Mr.  Stout's  first  letter  was  addressed  to  Thorpe,  "  the  author  of  Tom 
Owen  the  Bee  Hunter,"  immediately  upon  his  leaving  New  Orleans 
to  establish  himself  at  Vidalia,  and  is  to  the  following  effect :— 

STOKE  STOUT,  OF  LOUISIANA, 

ON  "THE  WAY  TO  KILL  WILD  TURKEYS  AND  RHEUMATISM." 

Bi-o  CHUCK-A-LUCK,     ~) 

June  the  14  teenth,  18  hundred  fy  43  > 

In  the  Stait  ov  loozy-anne.     3 

WELL,  Kernul,  I  sees  as  how  youve  kwit  Orleens 
and  tuck  up  bout  Videllai,  but  you  newer  sed  nuthin 
bout  it  to  noboddy.  Well  Irae  sorry  fur  your  kwitten 
the  cittee,  but  Ime  glad  youve  jined  that  uther  Bobb 
who  is  zactly  thar  with  a  kwil,  and  you  ma  sai  "  how 
dy"  tu  him  fur  me.  Well  I  thot  az  that  I  might  az  well 
kill  the  roomeytiz  by  tellin  you  how  I  kill  turkis,  az  to 
grunt  fur  nuthin.  So  hears  fur  a  hunt. 

Well  now  fust  you  must  have  a  rifel  az  iz  zactly  to 
the  spec.  Bout  the  fust  ov  Octobur  we  ginerally  takes 
147 


148  iTOKE    81  OUT. 

to  huntin  rigler  in  the  scratching — an  mine  you  must 
hav  a  turky  hown  az  iz  bout  3  parts  Dear  Hown  and 
the  tother  pinter,  tho  sumtimes  haf  and  haf  will  doo. 
I  knowd  won  wonst  that  wer  a  haf  hown  an  ^  dog  az 
wer  purty  good,  an  a  man  cum  along  heer  goin  on  2 
weez  now  az  said  az  that  he  had  wun  az  wur  all  dog,  an 
that  he  wer  fust  raght ;  but,  az  I  sed  at  fust,  a  tuch  of 
hown  with  a  leetle  plnter,  maks  a  turki  huntin  dog  sartin. 
As  I  was  sain,  you  taks  yur  hown  in  the  woods  and  you 
skeers  up  the  turkis  in  the  trees,  an  you  pokes  and 
kreeps  sow  az  if  you  seed  wun  all  the  time.  The  fust 
thing  you  heer,  you  see  the  turkis  goin  in  a  streek  off, 
then  you  must  go  on  furder,  an  when  you  gits  right,  you 
must  put  sum  bushes  on  a  big  logg  and  git  behin  it, 
an  yelp  on  yur  kwil,  whitch  must  be  of  kane,  or  a  wing 
bowne  of  a  turki,  az  yelped  coarse  afor  you  killed  it, 
will  do.  Wei  you  must  hav  a  flint  lok,  an  then  yu  la 
low,  an  snap  an  flash  as  much  as  you  pleas,  but  the  fust 
cap  as  yu  hexploads  with  a  precushing  gun  the  turkis 
they  put  and  wawks  Sphanish,  which  means  a  turki 
trot,  an  then  to  catch  em  yu  must  go  on  furder  besides 
makin  turkis  wilde.  Iv  seen  bad  huntin  make  turkis 
so  wild  that  they  would  run  wen  they  heerd  anybody 
yelpt,  and  they  would  run  every  time  they  gobbled.  A 
feller  down  on  Big  Kooney  sez  az  that  heez  seed  em 
so  wild  az  that  they  would  cluck  an  put  rown  his  tree 
an  when  the  old  wun  cum  up  they  would  fly  off  an  wait 
to  kno  for  sartin  it  was  her,  an  that  he  has  seen  em 
put  their  heds  in  swamp  hols,  an  hollar  logs  afore  they 
gobbled.  But  I  cant  certifi  to  this  fellers  tails,  but  sar- 
Un  turnip  kno  what  yu  want  an  aint  thar  wen  yu  pokes 


STOKE    STOUT.  149 

yur  hed  rown  a  tree  for  em.  Well,  this  kind  of  huntin 
continus  tu  about  the  Middel  of  febberry,  an  then  yu 
must  leav  yur  turki  hown  at  home,  az  the  hens  begin 
tu  lai  thar  egs,  an  no  rale  hunter  wil  kil  any  more  until 
the  fust  of  Octobure  cums  agin.  Well,  yu  goz  on 
mornins  and  evenins,  an  yu  pokes  an  kreeps  bout  like 
snaix  (you  kno  how  snaix  goz)  an  this  wa  sumtims  yu 
gits  wun  an  sumtims  yu  dont  git  wun ;  whil  this  iz  goin 
on  yu  haz  rale  sport,  and  yu  uze  your  kane  or  kvvil  so 
as  to  attrak  the  gobblers  az  iz  now  struttin  an  a  gob- 
blin  off  sum  of  that  sort  a  feelin  az  iz  purty  kommon  to 
awl  the  awnymals  bout  this  seezen  o'  the  year.  Sum 
peeple  murder  the  turkis  this  time  o'  year  by  roosten 
em  (finding  their  roosts)  an  buckshooten  on  em,  but  no 
rale  hunter  wil  do  that,  less  he  haz  cumpenny  az  wants 
gaim,  or  sum  ladi  wants  a  turki  tale  for  a  phan,  or  sum 
sich  want. 

Thar,  I'm  got  a  nu  twinge  in  mi  fute,  an  feal  kinder 
sleepy  2,  and  maybee  the  romeytis  aint  jist  about  got 
me  treed,  but  that  diseease  duz  yerk  a  feller  an  mak 
him  vank  an  wurm,  but  it  is  lait  an  ile  kwit. 
Yourn  az  same  az  anne  boddi. 
I  always  sines  myself 

STOKE  STOUT, 
Tho  Ime  ginnerally  called 

<<  OLD"  STOKE; 

[Old  Stoke  Stout  is  one  of  the  genuine  turkey  hunt 
ers  of  Louisiana,  and  we  are  glad  that  the  "  roomeytis" 
has  driven  him  from  necessity  to  use  his  "  kwil"  in  the 
literary,  as  well  as  in  the  "  turki  huntin'  "  line.  He  is 


150  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

worthy  of  a  better  cause,  to  pass  off  muslin  (New  York 
for  cotton)  for  linen.  What  a  contemptuous  opinion  of 
the  intellects  of  Gotham  the  tall  young  man  of  twenty 
must  entertain  as  a  basis  for  his  project !  Then  we  pic 
tured  a  very  soft-spoken  and  very  verdant  gentleman  in 
sewed  boots  and  an  intellectual- looking  hat,  with  a  mild 
description  of  checked  gingham  for  a  neckcloth,  who 
meets  the  audacious  pedlar,  falls  into  the  trap,  sees  no 
muslin  in  the  sanguine  and  blooming  view  he  takes  of  a 
shirt-pattern,  and  parts  with  an  excellent  pair  of  doe 
skins,  which  he  has  worn  but  once,  for  an  article  dear  at 
four  shillings — York  currency. 

'  But  with  the  morning 
Cool  reflection  comes.' 

An  astute  matron — his  housekeeper  perhaps — at  one 
dexterous  tweak,  accompanied  by  one  flash  of  a  pair  of 
horn-bowed  spectacles,  detects  the  imposition.  The 
verdant  gentleman  in  the  intellectual  hat,  sinks  into  a 
chair  beneath  the  mingled  pressure  of  shame  and  indig 
nation,  and  only  rouses  therefrom  in  the  first  rush  of  an 
inspiration,  under  the  influence  of  which  he  pens  the  ad 
vertisement  we  have  copied,  and  which  cost  him  six 
shillings  (York  again),  for  insertion  in  the  Sun.  It 
never  occurs  to  him  that  the  « tall  young  man  of  twenty' 
would  snap  his  fingers  at  the  threat,  well  knowing  that 
if  his  victim  knew  where  to  find  him  or  could  prove  his 
guilt,  he  would  at  once  place  a  c  Star'  policeman  on  his 
.  track,  instead  of  uttering  vague  threats  and  cautions  in 
the  newspapers.  Happily  ignorant  of  this,  the  soft 
headed  gentleman  buttons  his  muslin  shirt  to  his  throat, 
and  indulges  in  a  romantic  vision  of  a  return  of  the  <  tall 
young  gentleman  of  twenty,'  in  penitential  tears,  with  the 


HOW   WE   SMOKED   HIM   OUT.  151 

doeskins  neatly  folded  on  his  arm — those  doeskins  that 
have  seen  the  light  but  once  in  the  summer  stillness  of  a 
Sabbath  day  at  Harlem.  Queer  things — these  adver 
tisements  ! 

F.  A.  D. 


HOW  WE  SMOKED  HIM  OUT. 

To  the  multitude  acquainted  with  the  miseries  and 
mysteries  of  a  <  first-rate  boarding-house'  in  New  York 
— the  following  sketch  contains  but  little  interest.  The 
many  who  have  never  been  '  thar,'  however,  may  disco 
ver  a  sort  of  philosophy  in  the  story ;  and  should  any  find 
themselves  similarly  circumstanced,  let  them  adopt  a 
like  remedy,  and  <  take  our  hat'  if  the  « critter  is  n't 
druv  out!' 

In  the  year  183 — ,  I  had  taken  lodgings  in  a  * respect 
able'  boarding-place  in street,  and  a  four  months' 

residence  had  fairly  initiated  me.  I  was  scarcely  twenty, 
yet  I  had  been  plundered  of  my  wardrobe,  by  a  stran 
ger,  who  was  <  stopping  only  a  day  or  two ;'  I  had  paid 
the  supper-bills  at  Delmonico's  for  half-a-score  of  the 
knowin'  ones,  who  had  invited  me  to  participate  with 
them,  and  who  had  either  <  left  their  pocket-books  at 
home,'  or  who  had  prematurely  <  stepped  out,'  as  I  was 
finishing  my  last  cup  of  chocolate.  I  had  run  the 
<  neffy*  gauntlet,  and  was  perfectly  well  acquainted  with 
the  shortest  cut  both  to  and  from  Passandro's !  I  had 
been  four  months  in  Gotham — and  it  was  midsummer. 

The  good  lady  of  the  house  was  one  of  the  few  who 
paid  her  bills,  regularly.  And  well  she  might!  Her 


152  STOKE   STOUT. 

bluffs  'bout  8  foot  hi.  In  this  fix  I  stared  the  bull  in 
the  fase,  an'  twixt  the  horns,  an'  thout  how  mutch  he 
mit  way,  an'  seed  how  strong  he  lookt,  an'  felt  I  wur 
a  fool  for  not  killin'  him  2  yer  afore ;  an  I  lookt  sharp, 
an1  stared,  an'  grind  mi  teath,  an'  winct,  an'  maid 
mowths  at  him,  but  he  only  lookt  fearser  an'  fearser. 
An'  then  I  wisht  him  sich  gude  grasse,  an'  sitch  gude 
wawter,  an'  sitch  gude  every  ting,  az  I  node  he  would 
finde  in  a  field,  I  thot  ov,  a  half  ov  a  mile  offe ;  an'  I 
wished  this  harde  awl  the  tyme,  an'  I  buggun  to  swett 
powurfullye,  an  it  drapt  offe  ov  mee. 

Well,  sum  how,  whil  I  stared  at  the  bull,  an'  wisht 
him  every  whar  ruther  than  whar  he  wur,  "  Old  Tony," 
that  wus  his  nayme,  lookt  sleepilike,  an'  I  wundered 
if.  he  mout  be  gettin'  asleepe  shure  a  nuff,  but  I  wur 
afeered  to  try  an'  sea ;  but  he  stude  so  purpendicklar, 
that  I  thout  I  wur  gawn  fur  sartin.  So  I  prayde  what 
littell  I  node  how,  art  kept  starirf  the  bull  in  the  face  all 
the  tyme.  Directly,  for  I'me  unabell  to  maike  any  kawl- 
kalashun  of  the  tyme,  (now  min',  this  iz  a  fac,)  I  tell 
yu  fur  sartin,  that  old  Mr.  Stiggins'  old  yaller  bull, 
"  Toney,"  turned  hisself  rown,  a»'  maide  rite  far  the 
very  plase  Yde  been  wishin*  him  at.  I  gott  out  ov  the 
hole,  gathured  mi  gunn,  maide  trax  up  the  nex  hil,  tu 
whar  my  kreeter  wer  hitcht,  an'  I  kwit  them  "  scratch- 
ins"  fur  the  laste  time,  kwicer  nor  I  never  maide  owt 
ov  any  woodst  yit.  When  I  kum  2  like,  an'  kood 
brethe  a  little,  T  buggun  to  thinck,  an'  I  wer  pestured 
mitily  ;  an'  az  soon  az  I  gott  tu  the  howse,  I  tells  Mister 
Adverb,  the  skool  teecher,  'bout  it,  an'  he  saide  to  mee, 


STOKE   STOUT.  153 

«Yu  mesmerized  the  bull,  an'  then  maide  him  gow 
tu  the  phield  yu  wisht  him  att."  It  may  be  so,  but  I 
shall  nuver  furget  the  jogriphy  ov  that  hollar  in  which 
the  bull  kawt  me. 

Yours,  az  same  as  anne  bodie. 

STOKE  STOUT. 


LIFE  AND  MANNERS  IN  ARKANSAS, 

BY  AN  EX-GOVERNOR  OF  A  COTTON-GROWING  STATE.   « 


The  following  sketch  is  furnished  by  one  of  the  most  distinguished  men 
in  the  Union.  We  are  not  at  liberty  to  name  him,  but  he  will  be  re 
cognized  by  most  readers  at  the  South  and  West. 

THREE  years  ago,  of  a  pleasant  cool  day  in  the 
spring,  I  was  on  my  way,  through  the  Washita  Cove, 
(Arkansas,)  to  Fort  Smith.  I  had  ridden  hard  to  get 
to  the  Widow  Gaston's.  It  was  drawing  towards  sun 
set,  and  my  horse,  like  myself,  was  pretty  well  tired. 
At  length  I  met  two  boys  riding  one  pony,  and  he  bare 
backed,  with  a  leather  tug  round  his  under  lip  for  a 
bridle.  There  was  to  be,  as  I  afterwards  learned,  a 
wedding  at  the  widow's  that  night,  and  they  were  going 
to  bring  the  bridegroom. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  the  Widow  Gaston's,  my  boy  ?" 
said  I. 

"  A  mile  and  a  half,"  responded  the  larger  one. 

"  Can  I  stay  there  to-night  ?" 

"  I  reckon  not,"  was  the  response  :  "  she's  not  fixed 
to  take  in  travellers ;  and  besides,  there's  going  to  be 
company  there  to-night."  At  this  we  separated.  By 
means  of  hard  drumming  with  their  heels  a  gallop  was 
extracted  from  the  pony,  and  they  were  soon  out  of 
sight. 

I  rode  on  to  the  Widow's,  and  asked  her  if  I  could 
154 


LIFE   AND   MANNERS   IN    ARKANSAS.  155 

stay  there  ?  She  said  I  could  not.  "  Well,  madam," 
«aid  I,  "  how  far  is  it  to  the  next  house  ?" 

"  Three  quarters." 

"  And  how  far  to  the  next  ?" 

"  Twenty-four  miles." 

I  then  asked  her  whether,  if  I  went  on  to  Royal's 
(the  next  house),  and  could  not  stop  there,  I  could  re 
turn  and  stay  at  her  house,  and  she  told  me  she  reck 
oned  I  would  have  to  do  it. 

I  pushed  on  towards  Royal's,  met  him  on  horseback, 
just  in  sight  of  his  house,  and  inquired  if  I  could  stay 
with  him  ? 

"  No,  you  can't,"  was  his  response. 

"  Why  not  ?"  said  I. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  I  am  just  going  to  get  a  doctor, 
and  my  wife  is  a-going  to  be  confined  to-night." 

"  Well,  my  friend,"  said  I,  "  you  guess  a  great  deal 
better  here  than  we  do  in  my  country."  And  so  back 
I  went  to  the  Widow's. 

At  the  Widow's  I  found  her  daughter,  who  was  to  be 
married,  waiting  for  the  groom.  She  was  really  a 
beautiful  girl,  with  bright  eyes,  long  black  hair,  a  white 
band  round  her  head,  white  dress,  red  shoes,  and  no 
stockings.  Soon  after  I  stopped,  the  two  boys  were  in 
sight,  coming  at  the  top  of  pony's  speed,  and  shouting 
vociferously,  "  Here  he  comes !  here  he  comes !"  Just 
behind  them  came  the  bridegroom,  a  great,  clumsy, 
hulking,  cur-dog  looking  fellow,  in  full  dress  of  leather. 
The  girl,  when  she  heard  the  outcry,  got  up  and  stood 
in  the  door-way,  twisting  a  handkerchief  in  her  hands, 
and  as  he  came  in  sight  (they  had  not  met  for  sbr 


156  LIFE   AND   MANNERS 

months)  she  fell  to  crying.  He  came  to  the  door,  and 
without  speaking  to  her,  sat  down  on  the  outside.  After 
a  time  in  Parson  came,  dressed  in  leather  breeches, 
with  one  shoe  and  one  moccasin,  and  a  straw  hat,  with 
half  the  brim  torn  off.  Soon  after  the  attendants  came, 
two  girls  and  two  or  three  young  men  ;  and  the  groom 
came  in  and  sat  down  by  the  girl,  without  saying  a 
word,  she  still  crying.  The  parson  requested  the  at 
tendants  to  tell  him  to  come  up  and  be  married.  He 
looked  up,  and  responded  gruffly,  "  I  don't  allow  to  be 
in  a  hurry  about  it."  The  attendant  made  his  report 
accordingly,  whereat  the  parson  cried  out  loudly,  "  All 
candidates  for  matrimony  come  forward."  At  this 
Hunter  came  forward  alone ;  and  being  sent  back, 
seized  the  girl  by  the  arm,  lugged  her  up  and  brought 
her  forward.  The  parson  was  scared  into  fits,  mum 
bled  over  the  service  indistinctly,  and  told  them  they 
were  man  and  wife. 

I  then  retired  into  the  shed,  which  was  attached  to 
the  rear  of  the  solitary  room  composing  the  house. 
Soon  after  one  of  the  attendants  came  in  and  enquired 
the  hour.  I  told  him  ten  o'clock.  He  gave  a  grunt  of 
dissatisfaction,  and  it  then  struck  me  that,  as  it  was 
Sunday,  they  were  waiting  for  twelve  to  arrive,  in  order 
to  commence  the  frolic.  Accordingly  when,  a  little 
time  after,  he  again  enquired  the  hour,  I  told  him  ten 
minutes  after  twelve,  and  he  gave  a  jump  which  carried 
his  head  through  the  clap-boards  of  the  roof.  I  went 
out  with  him  to  see  the  frolic,  and  told  the  Widow  that 
in  my  part  of  the  country  it  was  the  fashion  to  kiss 
round  at  weddings,  and  so  proceeded  to  kiss  her.  She 


IK   ARKANSAS.  157 

made  strenuous  opposition,  and  told  me  I  had  got  hold 
of  the  wrong  person — she  was  not  one  of  that  sort. 
However,  I  succeeded  in  doing  the  penance,  and  then 
repaid  myself  by  making  the  same  overture  to  the  bride. 
She  covered  her  mouth  with  her  hand,  so  that  it  was 
with  great  difficulty  I  at  last  kissed  one  corner ;  but 
when  I  had  done  so  she  paid  me  back  with  interest,  and 
did  not  seem  to  want  to  quit.  All  took  to  kissing,  and 
then  to  playing  "  Sister  Phebe."  The  girls  placed  a 
man  in  the  chair,  and  sung — 

"  How  happy,  how  happy,  how  happy  was  we, 
When  we  sat  under  the  juniper  tree ; 
Put  this  hat  on  your  head  to  keep  it  warm, 
And  take  a  good  kiss,  it  will  do  you  no  harm." 

They  then  put  a  hat  on  his  head,  and  two  of  them  sat 
down  on  his  lap,  placing  their  faces  close  on  each  side 
of  his,  so  that  he  could  with  difficulty  turn  his  head  and 
kiss  them.  And  so  they  went  through  all  the  trees  in 
the  forest. 

After  two  or  three  hours  the  girls  took  the  bride  into 
the  shed  room,  and  then  told  the  groom  it  was  time  to 
go  to  bed.  His  response  was,  "  I  don't  allow  to  go  to 
bed  to-night."  They  inquired  what  he  intended  to  do. 
"Why,"  said  he,  "Sister  Phebe  does  me  very  well." 
So  they  got  the  bride  up,  dressed  her,  and  went  to  play 
ing  again,  and  so  we  passed  the  night. 

The  next  night  I  tried  to  stop  at  the  house  of  Squire 
Moore.  I  met  him  near  his  house,  and  asked  him  if  1 
could  stay.  "  I  reckon  not." 

"  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ?"  said  I. 

"  I'm  plumb  out  of  bread." 
K 


158  LIFE  AND   MANNERS    IN   ARKANSAS. 

"  That  makes  no  difference — I  can  get  along  well 
enough  with  meat." 

"  But  I'm  spang  out  of  meat,  and  I've  had  mighty 
bad  luck,  for  I've  been  out  bar-hunting  all  day,  and  1 
haven't  seen  a  bar." 

But  I  was  still  more  amused,  said  B ,  in  passing 

through  Parailigta,  on  my  way  here.  There  are  but 
two  families  living  in  the  town,  who  have  one  cow  and 
one  child  between  them,  and  one  family  takes  the  milk 
in  the  morning,  and  the  other  at  night.  Early  in  the 
morning  I  heard  an  old  man  calling  up  an  old  sow, 
which  I  had  noticed  the  night  before  running  about 
with  four  pigs.  The  woods  were  vocal  with  the  cry  of 
Pigooee — pigooee — pig — pig — pigee!  and  directly  1 
heard  him  say — "  Lige,  do  you  feed  that  sow,  and  don't 
feed  her  mighty  much  neither ;  and  mind  drive  away 

them  chickens  while  she's  eating ;  when  the  d d 

things  go  to  roost  you  feed  her  again,  and  feed  her 
good.  I  reckon  we'll  come  it  over  'em  in  that  way." 

Did  you  ever  hear  how  B P avoided  a  duel? 

He  is  a  full-blooded  Yankee,  and  while  in  the  South  on 
business,  managed  to  be  challenged  by  a  fiery  Southron. 

P is  a  big,  good-natured,   excellent  fellow,  and 

though  brave  enough,  saw  no  propriety  in  fighting  when 
that  operation  would  injure  his  business.  So,  thinking 
over  the  matter,  and  seeing  that  he  had  to  fight,  or 
manoeuvre  out  of  it  honourably,  he  forthwith  took  the 
challenge  to  a  notary,  had  it  regularly  protested,  and 
notice  duly  given  to  the  drawer.  The  intended  fignt 
went  off  in  an  explosion  of  fun. 


ANECDOTES  OF  THE  ARKANSAS  BAE, 

BY    A    BACKWOODS    LAWYER. 


As  the  author  of  "  Hymns  to  the  Gods,"  which  appeared  in  Black- 
wood's  Magazine  some  years  since,  ALBERT  PIKE,  of  Arkansas,  ac 
quired  at  once  the  highest  distinction  as  a  poet.  He  is  a  worthy  son 
of  New  England,  and  is  yet  quite  young.  Upon  returning  from  an 
expedition  to  Santa  Fe,  some  years  since,  he  settled  in  Arkansas, 
where,  after  "  mauling  rails,"  keeping  school,  editing  a  paper,  and 
studying  law,  he  has  at  length  reached  the  head  of  his  profession — the 
law.  He  is  at  this  moment  quite  the  most  distinguished  man  of  his 
age  in  the  state,  whether  as  a  lawyer  or  politician.  Since  the  late 
presidential  election  he  writes  us  that  he  is  "  going  back  to  his  books" 
again — a  circumstance  that  will  be  hailed  with  gratification  by  thou 
sands.  Pike  relates  anecdotes,  stories,  etc.,  with  inimitable  humour 
and  spirit.  At  our  request  he  wrote  out  the  following  anecdotes  of 
the  Arkansas  Bar,  but  they  are  tame  when  compared  with  his  impas 
sioned  recital. 

THE  pretty  little  village  of  Pine  Bluff,  Arkansas,  lies 
on  each  side  of  a  line  dividing  two  quarter  sections  of 
land,  owned  by  different  persons — the  upper  one  by  a 
person  named  Pullen,  the  lower  by  a  person  named 
Davies.  Puiien  first  laid  off  a  town,  after  running  a 
principal  line  between  the  quarter  sections  upon  his  own 
land,  and  numbered  the  lots,  beginning  with  No.  1  at 
the  river,  on  the  north  of  the  drawn  line,  which  ran  out 
at  right  angles  with  the  river.  A  pragmatical  old 
Frenchman,  one  Antoine  Baraque,  educated  for  a  monk 
in  France,  and  afterwards  a  commissary  in  Napoleon's 
46  159 


160  ANECDOTES   OF  THE 

Spanish  army  of  invasion — a  small,  adust,  impetuous 
old  man — bought  lot  No.  1,  received,  and  caused  to  be 
recorded,  a  deed  to  it  from  Pullen.  The  line  was  after 
wards  run  out  by  Pullen  and  Davies,  and  it  was  ascer 
tained  that  Pullen's  original  line  was  wrong,  and  that 
the  true  line  so  struck  the  river  as  to  cut  off  lot  No.  .X 
entirely,  throwing  it  upon  Davies'  quarter  section.  Da- 
vies  then  commenced  laying  off  a  town  on  his  side,  by 
lots  of  the  same  size  as  Pullen's,  and  numbering  down 
river  from  the  line,  so  that  what  was  lot  No.  1  on  Pul 
len's  town,  became  lot  No.  1  on  Davies'  town,  and  was 
by  the  latter  sold  to  a  stout,  ruddy,  athletic  Frenchman, 
named  Joe  Bonne. 

Baraque  found  it  impossible  to  understand  the  new 
order  of  things  ;  and  meeting  Davies  soon  after,  enter 
ed  upon  an  expostulation  with  him  upon  his  conduct, 
and  the  consequences  to  himself  resulting  from  it. 
"Good  God!"  said  he,  " Meestare  Davies,  I  'ave  my 
lot  No.  1  in  de  town  of  Pine  Bluff  from  dat  Mr.  Pul 
len,  and  'ave  my  deed  record  in  de  clerk's  office  of  de 
county — lot  No.  1,  in  de  town  of  Pine  Bluff!  Ha  !  you 
no  see  you  'ave  rob  me  of  my  land.  By  gar,  dere  is 
my  deed  on  record,  and  I  will  'ave  my  land.  I  'ave  buy 
dat  lot,  and  you  number  him  lot  No.  1,  and  he  is  my 
lot." 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Davies,  "  you  bought  of 
Pullen,  and  the  lot  was  not  upon  his  land.  When  thn 
true  line  was  run,  the  lot  fell  on  my  quarter  section." 

"  G —  dam  de  line,"  hotly  responded  Baraque ; 
"  what  you  'spect  I  care  for  your  dam  line  !  Dare  is 
my  deed  on  record  for  lot  No.  1,  in  de  town  of  Pine 


ARKANSAS   BAB.  161 

Bluff,  and  you  number  dat  lot  so,  and  by  gar,  I  will 
'ave  my  lot." 

"  Oh,  well,  said  Davies,  "  if  that  is  all,  I  will  com 
mence  numbering  my  lots  down  in  the  swamp,  and 
number  them  up,  and  then  your  lot  will  be  lot  No.  1  no 
longer." 

"  Oh,  by  gar,"  cried  Baraque,  "  dat  would  be  one 
dam  rascally  ting,  to  rob  me  of  my  property  in  dat 
way ;  and  I  shall  bring  one  suit  for  my  lot." 

Sue  he  did,  accordingly,  by  action  of  ejectment 
against  Joe  Bonne,  and  employed  Colonel  Fowler  to 
carry  on  his  suit.  During  the  six  months  that  inter 
vened  between  the  commencement  of  the  suit  and  the 
sitting  of  the  court,  he  wrote  Fowler,  on  an  average,  a 
letter  a  week.  The  cause  came  on  for  trial — Baraque 
was  beaten,  of  course,  and  then  refused  to  pay  Fowler 
his  fee.  Fowler  thereupon  commenced  suit  against 
him.  Baraque,  upon  this,  healed  up  the  breach  be 
tween  himself  and  Joe  Bonne,  and  subpo3naed  him  as 
a  witness. 

When  the  cause  came  on  for  trial,  our  two  French 
men  sat  cosily  in  court,  cheek-by-jowl,  and  as  the  trial 
progressed,  Baraque  often  whispered  merrily  in  Joe 
Bonne's  ear.  Fowler  at  length  offered  to  read  divers 
letters  from  Baraque  in  evidence ;  and  selecting  one, 
commenced.  It  ran  thus  : — 

"  Mr.  Colonel  Absalom  Foicler, — Now  I  want  you  to 
be  sure  and  be  at  court  to  attend  to  dat  cause  of  mine 
aginst  dat  dam  Joe  Bonne,  for  my  lot  No.  1,  in  de 
town  of  Pine  Bluff,"  &c. 

Fowler — a  formal,  stiff,  and  precise  man — read  the 


162  ANECDOTES   OF   THE 

letter  through  without  a  wink  or  smile,  and  proceeded 
to  read  another,  and  another.  The  third  or  fourth 
began  in  this  style  : — 

"  Mr.  Colonel  Absalom  Fowler,  Sir, — I  want  you  to 
be  sure  and  see  to  dat  case  of  mine  aginst  dat  dam 
rascal  Joe  Bonne.  I  have  no  idea  of  being  rob  of  my 
land  in  dat  dam  rascally  way,  and  I  will  'ave  you  know 
dat  I  am  bound  to  succeed." 

Joe  drew  off  from  Baraque,  and  cast  upon  him  fierce 
glances  of  anger,  and  Baraque  turned  red  and  pale 
alternately.  Fowler  drew  out  another  and  commenced 
reading : — 

"  Dear  Mr.  Colonel  Fowler, — I  will  'ave  you  know, 
sare,  I  must  be  sure  and  'ave  you  at  Court  and  see  to 
my  case  against  dat  dam  rascal  Joe  Bonne.  Who  stole 
de  hog?  Ha!  I  nevare  steal  any  hog.  If  anybody 
want  to  know  who  stole  de  hog,  let  dem  ask  Joe 
Bonne." 

This  capped  the  climax.  Joe  shook  his  fist  in  Ba- 
raque's  face,  and  the  latter  rushed  out  of  Court. 
Bench,  bar,  and  jury,  burst  into  universal  laughter, 
and  without  further  evidence  Fowler  took  his  judg 
ment. 

Speaking  of  Courts,  reminds  me  of  some  of  our 
specimens  of  forensic  eloquence,  pathetic  in  the  highest 
degree.  A  limb  of  the  law,  who  has  been  a  Circuit 
Judge  and  Senator,  once  defended  a  client  for  assault 
and  battery  before  two  Justices,  and  opened  his 
case  thus: — 

"  May  it  please  your  Honours !  I  appears  before 
you  this  day,  an  humble  advocate  of  the  people's  rights, 


ARKANSAS   BAR.  163 

to  redress  the  people's  wrongs.  Justice,  may  it  please 
your  Honours,  justice  is  all  we  ask  ;  and  justice  is  due, 
from  the  tallest  and  highest  archangel  that  sits  upon 
the  thrones  of  heaven,  to  the  meanest  and  most  in 
significant  demon  that  hroils  upon  the  coals  of  hell.  If 
my  client,  may  it  please  your  Honours,  has  been  guilty 
of  any  offence  at  all,  unknown  to  the  catalogue  of  the 
law,  he  has  been  guilty  of  the  littlest  and  most  insig 
nificant  offence  which  has  ever  been  committed  from 
the  time  when  the  '  morning  stars  sung  together  with 
joy,  shout  heavenly  muse  !'  ' 

Another  eminent  member  of  the  bar,  who  has  made 
a  fortune  by  his  practice,  once  in  a  murder  case,  in 
which  I  was  engaged  with  him,  the  prisoner  having 
committed  the  act  while  intoxicated,  said  to  the  jury  in 
the  course  of  his  speech  : — "  Gentlemen  of  the  jury,  it 
is  a  principle  congenial  with  the  creation  of  the  world, 
and  handed  down  from  posterity,  that  drunkenness 
always  goes  in  commiseration  of  damages." 

At  another  time  he  told  a  jury,  that  a  person  indicted 
for  assault  and  battery,  "  beat  and  bruised  the  boy,  and 
amalgamated  his  head."  And  finally,  in  an  action  for 
slander,  brought  by  a  female  client  against  one  Thomas 
Williams,  who  had  uttered  some  injurious  imputations 
against  her  virgin  purity,  he  thus  broke  forth  : — "Who 
is  this  Tom  Williams,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,  that  comes 
riding  out  of  the  Cherokee  nation,  on  the  suburbs  of 
posterity  ?  He  knocked  at  my  client's  door  at  the  dead 
hour  of  the  night,  and  she  refused  to  get  up  and  let  him 
in.  Wasn't  this  a  proof  of  her  virginity  ?" 


HOSS  ALLEN,  OF  MISSOURI. 


The  following  sketch  is  by  the  author  of  "  Sioallovnng  an  Oyster  JIUveF' 
and  was  originally  published  in  the  St.  Louis  "Reveill6." 

THIS  celebrated  gentleman  is  a  recognized  "  hoss" 
certainly;  and,  we  are  told,  rejoices  as  much  at  his  cog- 
nomination,  as  he  did  at  his  nomination  for  the  chair 
gubernatorial,  last  election.  He  did  not  run  well  enough 
to  reach  the  chair,  though  it  appears  from  his  own  ac 
count,  that  his  hoss  qualities,  "  any  how,"  fall  consider 
ably  below  those  of  the  sure-enough  animal.  This  ia 
his  story — which  he  is  very  fond  of  relating  up  by  Pal- 
myry. 

"You  see,  boys,  I  came  to  the  d — d  river,  and  found 
I  had  to  swim.  Had  best  clothes  on,  and  didn't  know 
what  to  do!  'What  river?'  Why,  Salt  river.  Our  Salt, 
here  in  Missouri,  d — d  thing,  always  full  when  don't 
want  it.  Well,  boys,  you  knows  hoss  Allen  ! — no  back 
out  in  him,  any  how!  Stripped  to  the  skin,  just  tied 
clothes  up  in  bundle,  strapped  it  on  to  the  critter's  head, 
and  'cross  we  swum  together.  Well,  don't  you  think, 
while  I  was  gittin'  up  the  bank,  the  d — d  thing  got 
away,  and  started  off  with  my  clothes  on  his  head  !  and 
the  more  I  run,  and  hollered,  and  'whoa'd,'  the  more 
I  couldn't  catch  the  cussed  varmint !  'Way  he'd  go, 
and  I  arter — hot  as  h — 11,  too,  all  the  way,  and  yaller 
164 


BOSS   ALLE9.  105 

flies  about — and  when  I  did  get  tol'ble  near,  he'd  stop 
and  look,  cock  his  ears,  and  give  a  snuff,  as  if  he  never 
smelt  a  man  afore,  and  then  streak  it  off  agin  as  if  I 
had  been  an  Ingin!  Well,  boys,  all  I  had  to  do  was 
to  keep  afollerin'  on,  and  keep  flies  off;  and  I  did,  till 
we  come  to  a  slough,  and,  says  I,  now  old  feller,  I  got 
you,  and  I  driv  him  in.  Well,  arter  all,  do  you  know, 
fellers,  the  d — d  critter  wouldn't  stick!  he  went  in  and 
in,  and  by'm-by  came  to  a  deep  place,  and  swum  right 
across — a  fact,  true  as  thunder !  Well,  you  see,  when 
I  cum  to  the  deep  place,  I  swum,  too  ;  and  do  you 
know  that  that  d — d  beast  just  nat'rally  waited  till  I  got 
out,  and  looked  at  me  all  over,  and  I  could  act'ily  see 
him  laffin !  and  I  was  nasty  enough  to  make  a  hoss 
laugh,  any  how! 

Well,  thinks  I,  old  feller,  recon  you'v  had  fun  enough 
with  me  now,  so  I  gits  some  sticks  and  scrapes  myself 
all  over,  and  got  tol'ble  white  agin,  and  then  begins  to 
coax  the  d — d  varmint.  Well,  I  *  whoa'd,'  and  '  old 
boy'd,'  and  cum  up  right  civil  to  him,  I  tell  ye,  and  he 
took  it  mighty  condescendin',  too  ;  and  jist  when  I  had 
him,  sure — cussed  if  he  didn't  go  right  back  into  the 
slough  agin,  swum  the  deep  place,  walked  out,  and 
stood  on  t'other  side  waitin'  for  me. 

"  Well,  by  this  time  the  d — d  yaller  flies  cum  at  me 
agin,  and  I  jist  nat'rally  went  in  arter  the  blasted  beast, 
and  stood  afore  him,  on  t'other  side,  just  as  nasty  as 
before — did  by  thunder,  boys !  Well,  he  Iqffed  agin 
till  he  nearly  shook  the  bundle  off,  and  'way  he  went, 
back  agin,  three  miles  to  the  river,  and  then  he  jist 
stopped  dead  and  waited  till  I  cum  up  to  him,  and  jist 


166  HOSS   ALLEN. 

kind  a  axed  me  to  cum  and  take  hold  of  the  bridle, 
and  then  guv  a  kick  and  a  'ruction  and  went  in  agin, 
laffin  all  the  time ;  and,  right  in  the  middle,  d — m  me, 
if  he  didn't  shake  my  clothes  off,  and  'way  they  went, 
down  stream,  while  he  swum  ashore,  and  I,  just  nat'- 
rally,  lay  down  on  the  bank,  and  cussed  all  creation. 

"  Well,  you  see,  boys,  there  I  lays  'bove  a  hour,  when 
I  sees  a  feller  pullin'  up  stream  in  a  skift,  a-tryin'  on  a 
coat ;  and  says  I,  stranger,  see  here,  when  you're  done 
gittin'  my  coat  on,  I'll  thank  you  for  my  shirt !  and  the 
feller  sees  how  it  was,  and  pulls  a-shore,  and  helps  me. 
I  tell  you  what  boys,  you  may  talk  of  hoss  lafs,  but 
when  you  want  a  good  one,  just  think  of  Hoss  Allen  '" 


PULLING  TEETH  IN  MISSISSIPPI, 


BY     UNCLE     JOHNNY. 


The  following  "  Tooth-pulling  Story"  purports  to  have  been  related  by 
"  Uncle  Johnny"  to  "  Obe  Oilstone,"  a  well-known  Mississippi  cor 
respondent  of  the  "  Spirit  of  the  Times."  It  was  to  "  Uncle  Johnny" 
that  we  were  indebted  for  "  That  Big  Dog  Fight  at  Myers's .'"  It  will 
be  seen  that  the  present  story  is  "  told  on"  our  amusing  correspond 
ent  himself. 

ELECTION  day  is  a  day  away  out  here  in  the  woods, 
and  notwithstanding  we  have  precincts  .  scattered 
throughout  the  counties,  yet  the  county  seat  is  the  place 
at  which  most  do  congregate,  for  the  triple  purpose  of 
voting,  spreeing,  and  lastly,  for  the  peculiar  pleasure 
of  witnessing  the  beginning — ay,  "the  opening  of  the 
ball"  of  the  "  Fall  Fighting  Campaign,"  which  inter 
esting  event  is  usually  postponed  to  that  exciting  period, 
when  party  excitement  and  individual  misunderstand 
ing,  leave  a  man  very  little  hesitancy  to  "  pitch"  into 
his  neighbour ;  this  comes  not  oftener  than  two  years 
—often  enough,  however,  for  "  regular  work." 

Having  the  common  anxiety  to  see  the  first  "  regu 
lar  despatch,"  I  arrived  early  at  Fayette,  (our  county 
seat,)  on  the  4th  November  last,  when  and  where  I  had 
the  good  luck  to  see  the  campaign  open ;  the  anxiety, 
among  the  numerous  spectators,  to  continue  the  sport, 
was  really  commendable.  Both  claimed  the  victory, 
but  the  ring  declared  "  a  dead  match ;"  another  heat 

167 


168  PULLING    TEETH 

was  promised  by  the  defendant — I  immediately  staked 
a  hat  on  him  "  what  got  gouged." 

Whilst  in  the  crowd,  a  well-known  voice  addressed 
me,  "  Hallo,  boy  !  come  over  here  !  How  are  you  ?  I 
say,  it's  your  treat,  now,  certain.  Come  in,  men." 

"  Certainly,  Uncle  Johnny,"  said  I — "  pleasure  al 
ways  to  treat  you" 

"  Me  ?  I'm if  you  don't  treat  the  whole  crowd  ! 

Rosser,  tell  all  them  men  to  come  in !  Hyena's  breakin' 
chains  and  things !  Eh !  You  thot  I'd  never  see  a 
paper,  did  you  ?  Well,  well,  I  don't  care  a  cuss  about 
it  myself,  but  the  fact  is,  '  Old  Iron's'  in  town  now, 
and  he  says  when  he  sees  you  thar'll  be  another  Dog 
Fite ;  so  if  you  see  him  gittin'  anyways  high,  wharfs 
your  hoss?  Well,  well,  jist  keep  out'n  his  way.  Is  you 
seen  Wills  sense  them  fellers  was  a  pullin'  his  tooth?" 

"  What  fellows  ?"  was  the  immediate  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  and  so,  my  boy,  you  aint  said  nothin'  about 
it,  eh '  Well  that  is  rich,  fond  of  ritirt  stories,  but  never 
tells  'em,  eh !  Well,  I'll"— 

"  Uncle  Johnny,  don't  tell  tales  out  of  school,  if  you 
please.  Recollect  you  should  do  unto  others  as" — 

"  I  am  done  by, — that's  a  fact,  by  gracious,  so  I'll 
jist  out  with  it. 

"  You  see,  'twas  the  night  arter  the  big  dinner  up  here, 
and  Wade  got  a  crowd  of  youngsters  to  go  home  with 
him  for  some  fun.  Jist  afore  they  gits  to  Wade's  they 
overtakes  me,  and  I  took  him  up  at  his  first  offer  to  go 
by  too — he  keeps  good  licker,  Wade  does.  Well, 
arter  supper  I  seen  the  boys  was  in  for  a  frolic.  I  took 
two  or  three  hands  with  'em  at  cards,  and  after  pun- 


"The  doctor  settin'  straddle  of  his  breast,  in  his  shirt-tail,  with  a  pair  of  bullet 
niok'K  in  his  hands,  tryin'  to  pull  out  one  of  his  teeth.''— Page  171. 


iw  MISSISSIPPI.  171 

isnin'  sum  of  the  old  stuff",  I  lays  down.  Well,  I  spose 
it  wanted  about  two  hours  to  day,  when  I  was  roused 
with  the  vvakenest  noise  I  ever  riz  to.  I  can't  hardly  tell 
how  they  was  all  fixed  in  that  room,  but  thar  lay  Wills 
flat  on  his  back  on  the  floor,  a  big  nigger  a  holt  of 
each  hand,  holdin'  him  spred  out — the  doctor  settin' 
straddle  of  his  brest,  in  his  shirt  tail,  with  a  pair  of 
bullet  moles  in  his  hands,  tryin'  to  pull  out  one  of  his 

teeth !     Then  thar  sat  Henry  B nes,  from  Clair- 

borne  county,  at  his  head,  a  holdin'  the  candle,  and 
every  now  and  then  he  would  reach  one  hand  over  and 
hyst  Wills's  upper  lip  for  the  doctor  to  get  the  moles 
onto  his  tooth.  Henry  had  a  big  pair  of  goat  locks  un 
der  his  chin,  and  in  peepin'  over  at  the  opperation  he'd 
git  'em  right  over  the  candle  and  they'd  swinge.  I  seed 
him  keep  turnin'  up  his  nose  like  he  smelt  somethin'  a 
burnin',  but  he  never  dreamed  it  was  his  whiskers.  Wills 
was  a  gruntin'  powerful,  and  what  between  gruntin' 
and  the  hiccups,  I  thort  he'd  strangle.  Major  Bob  was 
thar,  too,  and  he  had  on  a  wonderful  short  shirt  for  a 
big  fat  man.  He  swore  he  could  beat  that  doctor  a 
pullin'  teeth  and  he  was  hollerin  for  his  'insterments!' 
(a  hammer  and  nail)  to  knock  it  out !  They  got  the 
nail,  and  as  they  could'nt  find  a  hammer,  in  they  fetch 
ed  a  pair  of  shoemaker's  pinchers  that's  got  a  sort  of 
hammer  on  one  side.  The  doctor  dropt  the  moles,  for 
he  found  out  that  every  time  he'd  jerk,  they'd  slip,  so 
he  sings  out  for  the  pinchers — swore  they  were  his 
favorite  insterments — always  used  'em — beat  pullicans 
to  h— ! 

"Well,  you  never  did  see  a  drunken  set  so  busy 


172  PULLING   TEETH 

about  a  serious  job  !  Every  one  was  in  ded  ernest  try  in' 
to  help  Wills,  and  he  was  a  takin'  on  wonderful,  that's 
a  fact !  The  doctor  set  to  work  with  the  pinchers,  and 
there  sot  Henry  with  the  pleasinest  countenance  (and 
when  he  gits  three  sheets  spred,  and  is  tryin'  to  unfarl 
the  fourth,  he  can  jist  out-laugh  the  univarse,  or  I'll 
borrow  a  hat  to  go  home  with  !)  there  sot  Henry  reddy 
to  hist  Wills's  upper  lip  when  the  doctor  would  staggei 
that  way.  Well,  he  got  reddy — Henry  histed  his  lip, 
and  arter  two  or  three  false  jerks,  he  found  the  ham 
mer  was  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  pinchers  for  that 
tooth,  so  he  turns  in  and  asks  Wills  on  which  side  the 
akin  tooth  was  ?  He  said  he  did'nt  know ! — So  he 
fastens  'em  onto  a  sound  tooth  on  tother  side.  But  the 
Major  had  got  impatient,  so  he  riz — pulled  his  shirt  as 
low  as  he  could  git  it,  (and  then  it  did'nt  hide  nothin') 
picks  up  the  tongs,  walks  round,  and  puts  one  foot  on 
Wills's  brest  before  the  doctor,  and  says  he,  '  Doctor, 
you've  been  sittin'  cross  that  man  for  three  hours  !  You 
can't  pull  no  tooth,  nor  never  could !  Git  up,  man,  git 
up  !  I  can  jist  take  these  tongs,  and  pull  his  tooth  in 
half  the  time.'  But  he  had'nt  a  chance  to  try,  for 
Henry,  who  had  been  leanin'  over  to  Wills's  lip,  puts 
his  chin  right  over  the  candle,  and  afore  he  knowed  it, 
his  whiskers  was  in  a  big  blaze !  He  drops  the  candle 
with  a  '  hooze'  right  into  Wills's  face — the  nigger  let 
go  and  jumpt — Bob  and  the  doctor  fell  in  a  lump,  tongs 
and  all.  Wills  riz  to  his  all-fours  and  made  for  the 
gallery,  with  the  stranglinest  hiccups  I  ever  heard !  I 
follered  the  man  out — I  rally  thort  he  was  stranglin'  to 
deth, — but  he  had  riz  up  by  the  gallery  post,  and  was 


IN   MISSISSIPPI.  173 

a  heavin'  and  settin' !  It  beat  all  tooth  pullins  I  ever 
seen.  Says  I,  '  Curnel,  what'fe  you  doin  ?'  says  he, 
'  try  in'  to  throw  up  (hie)  that  d —  tooth !  I  think — I 
inust'er  swallered  it? 

"  Well,  I  looks  around  for  this  boy,  and  not  seein' 
him,  I  inquires,  but  they  had  bin  so  busy  they  hadn't 
missed  him.  Think' s  I,  I'll  take  a  turn  around  and 
see  if  I  can't  find  him  a  holdin'  up  the  fence,  somewhar ! 
Well,  soon  as  I  got  out  of  the  noise  in  the  house,  I  hear 
somebody  hollerin' ;  and  there  he  was,  sure  enough, 
huggin'  a  red  oak,  three  feet  thru.  *  Well,'  says  I, 
'  What's  you  doin  here  ?'  '  Uncle  Johnny,  come  here — 
for  God  sake  come  here,'  says  he,  '  and  put  a  rail  up 
agin  this  tree  !  I'm  mighty  tired,'  says  he,  '  it's  right 
easy  now ;  but  when  the  wind  blmcs,  O  Lord,  but  its 
mity  heavy — hurrah,  here  it  comes,'  says  he,  and  he 
spread  himself  to  it  as  he'd  bin  holdin'  up  the  univarse ! 
Ha !  ha !  'twas  rich,  to  see  him  surgin'  up  agin  that 
tree  to  hold  it  up,  and  beggin  me  to  prop  it  up  with  a 
rail.  I  gits  a  rail,  and  leans  it  agin  the  tree.  *  Uncle 
Johnny,'  says  he,  'had'nt  you  better  git  another?  It's 
a  mity  big  tree  and  ruff  at  that.'  *  Let  go,'  says  I, 
'  'I wont  fall — these  rails  '11  hold  it — let  go  !'  Soon  as 
he  let  go,  slam  bang  he  went  agin  the  pickets — knock 
ed  some  off,  and  went  clean  thru ! —  '  G —  durn  them 
pickets !  they  bin  tryin'  to  run  over  me  all  night,' 
says  he,  pickin'  himself  up  mity  awkward.  I  couldn't 
Hold  in,  he  talked  so  natral.  '  Why,'  says  I,  '  you  run 
over  them?  '  Oh,  no,'  says  he,  'what  with  holdin'  that 
tree  up,  and  gittin'  round  on  t'other  side  at  the  same 
,  to  git  out  in  the  pickets'  way,  is  nily  took  nil  the 


174  PULLING   TEETH   IN   MISSISSIPPI. 

flesh  off 'n  ray  arms — that's  proof,  aint  it  ?'  Well,  I 
could'nt  begin  to  lead  him  to  the  house,  so  jist  got  be 
hind  and  pushed  him.  He's  a  little  man,  but  you  ort'er 
bin  thar  if  you  aint  never  seen  a  man  walk  tall;  every 
time  he  stept,  his  legs  went  out  to  right  angles.  I  say, 
ow's  your  arms  got  ?" 

"  That'll  do  now,  Uncle  Johnny — treat,  won't  you?" 
"  Now  you  hit  me.     Come  in  men,  what'll  you  pull 
your  tooth  with?" 


THE  WAY  "LIGE"  SHADDOCK 

«  SCARED  UP  A  JACK." 


The  following  sketch  was  suggested  to  the  writer — a  capital  Missis 
sippi  correspondent  of  the  "Spirit  of  the  Times" — by  HOOPER'S  story 
(previously  given  in  this  volume)  of  "  How  Simon  Suggs  raised  Jack  /" 

Now,  it  is  barely  possible  that  you  never  heard  of 
Lige  or  Elijah  Shaddock,  commonly  called  "  Judge." 
I  say  barely  possible,  for  I  think  I  have  heard  that  you 
caused  yourself  to  be  towed  up  this  river,  and  if  you 
did,  you  heard  of  "  Lige."  He  has  been  pilot  on  this 
river  ever  since  it  commenced  running !  The  oldest 
inhabitants  only  recollect  him  in  flat-boat  times — that 
was  before  steamers  ran — but  the  Indians  have  a  tra 
dition  that  a  white  man  used  to  pilot  drift  logs  to  the 
Balize  and  turn  them  loose ;  and  I  have  heard  it  hinted 
that  a  man  very  much  resembling  Lige,  was  at  the 
steering  oar  of  Capt.  Noah's  craft,  at  the  time  of  the 
big  fresh — I  forget  the  year.  What  we  call  the  Lower 
Mississippi — from  Vicksburg  to  New  Orleans — never 
changes  its  channel  without  consulting  him;  this  fact 
is  certain.  I  do  not  say  that  he  invented  cards,  but 
rather  think  he  was  the  man.  If  you  will  step  on  board 
the  fastest  New  Orleans  and  Vicksburg  packet  the 
night  she  lays  at  Vicksburg,  you  may  notice  Elijah 

L  175 


176       .  "LIGE"  SHADDOCK. 

making  expenses  somewhere  about  the  social  hall.  It 
may  be  crack-loo,  poker,  brag,  or  set-back-euchre,  but 
he  is  not  losing  any  thing. 

I  remember  well  the  first  time  we  met.  It  was  on  a 
fast  Mississippi  steamer,  long  time  ago.  It  was  a  fair 
game,  but  he  played  it  monstrous  strong.  Well,  about 
"  That  Big  Dog," — I  mean  the  gambler.  He  did  not 
know  Shaddock,  and  got  in  a  little  game  of  poker  with 
him.  He  soon  discovered  that  he  was  small  potatoes, 
and  after  losing  fifty  or  sixty  dollars,  he  concluded 
that  if  by  any  trick  he  could  recover  his  money,  he 
would  let  Shaddock  alone  in  future ;  so  he  blocks  the 
game  of  poker,  and  proposed  to  bet  Shaddock  fifty  dol 
lars  that  he  could  turn  a  Jack  at  the  first  trial.  Shad 
dock  refused  to  bet,  but  immediately  proposed  a  game 
of  old  sledge.  In  a  short  time  the  gambler  had  lost 
fifty  dollars  more,  and  began  to  show  symptoms  of  dis 
tress.  Says  Shaddock,  "  I  have  been  thinking  of  what 
you  proposed  a  while  ago ;  d — d  if  I  dorft  bet  fifty  you 
can't  do  it."  The  hundred  was  instantly  on  the  table. 
The  gambler  took  the  whole  pack  and  threw  them  on 
the  table  face  up!  "No  you  don't,"  says  Shaddock. 
"  Yes  I  do,"  says  the  gambler,  "  it  was  fairly  done." 
Lige  has  a  way  of  dropping  one  corner  of  his  eye  and 
mouth  at  the  same  time — I  don't  know  how  he  does  it 
— it's  a  way  he's  got — but  whenever  you  see  it,  there 
is  something  out.  Well,  just  as  the  gambler  claimed  his 
throw  for  a  fair  one,  this  peculiarity  might  have  been 
observed  on  Elijah's  countenance.  Stretching  himself 
on  tip-toe  to  see  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  collected 


"LIGE"  SHADDOCK.  177 

round  the  table,  he  observed,  "  If  there  is  a  Jack  in  THAT 
pack,  Til  be  d — d!"  which  proved  to  be  the  fact. 

This  put  the  gambler's  pipe  entirely  out,  and  he  left 
in  disgust.     I  always  supposed,  ir«y<»e!f,  that  them  Jacks 
got  lost  out  quite  promiscuous^   fir^rr  »_Ka£  litxle  garcu* 
f  "  seven  up." 
47 


COUSIN  SALLY  DILLIARD, 

A  LEGAL  SKETCH  IN  THE  "OLD  NORTH  STATE.' 


The  following  inimitable  sketch  has  gone  the  rounds  of  the  American 
press  some  half  a  dozen  times.  It  is  understood  to  have  been 
written  by  HAMILTON  C.  JONES,  ESQ.  and  was  originally  published 
ten  years  or  more  since.  Who  knows  but  this  sketch  may  have 
suggested  to  Judge  LONGSTREET  his  side-splitting  "  Georgia  Scenes?" 
It  may  have  induced  the  authorship,  by  the  late  professor  NOTT,  of 
South  Carolina,  of  his  "Adventures  of  Thomas  Singularity,  journey 
man  printer,"  one  of  the  most  entertaining  books  ever  written  in  tho 
south. 

SCENE — A  Court  of  Justice  in  North  Carolina. 

A  BEARDLESS  disciple  of  Themis  rises,  and  thus  ad 
dresses  the  Court : — "  May  it  please  your  Worships,  and 
you,  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  since  it  has  been  my  for 
tune  (good  or  bad,  I  will  not  say)  to  exercise  myself  in 
legal  disquisitions,  it  has  never  befallen  me  to  be  obliged 
to  prosecute  so  direful,  marked,  and  malicious  an 
assault — a  more  wilful,  violent,  dangerous  battery — and 
finally,  a  more  diabolical  breach  of  the  peace,  has  sel 
dom  happened  in  a  civilized  country ;  and  I  dare  say  it 
has  seldom  been  your  duty  to  pass  upon  one  so  shock 
ing  to  benevolent  feelings,  as  this  which  took  place 
over  at  Captain  Rice's,  in  this  county.  But  you  will 
hear  from  the  witnesses. 

The  witnesses  being  sworn,  two  or  three  were  ex 
amined  and  deposed — one  said  that  he  heard  the  noise, 
178 


COUSIN   SALLY   DILLIARD.  179 

and  did  not  see  the  fight ;  another  that  he  seen  the  row, 
but  didn't  know  who  struck  first — and  a  third,  that  he 
was  very  drunk,  and  couldn't  say  much  about  the  skrira- 
mage. 

Lawyer  Chops. — I  am  sorry,  gentlemen,  to  have 
occupied  your  time  with  the  stupidity  of  the  witnesses 
examined.  It  arises,  gentlemen,  altogether  from  mis 
apprehension  on  my  part.  Had  I  known,  as  I  now  do, 
that  I  had  a  witness  in  attendance  who  was  well  ac 
quainted  with  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  and 
who  was  able  to  make  himself  clearly  understood  by 
the  court  and  jury,  I  should  not  so  long  have  trespassed 
upon  your  time  and  patience.  Come  forward,  Mr.  Har 
ris,  and  be  sworn. 

So  forward  comes  the  witness,  a  fat,  shuffy  old  man, 
a  "  leetle"  corned,  and  took  his  oath  with  an  air. 

Chops. — Harris,  we  wish  you  to  tell  all  about  the  riot 
that  happened  the  other  day  at  Captain  Rice's ;  and  as 
a  good  deal  of  time  has  already  been  wasted  in  circum 
locution,  we  wish  you  to  be  compendious,  and  at  the 
same  time  as  explicit,  as  possible. 

Harris. — Adzactly  (giving  the  lawyer  a  knowing 
wink,  and  at  the  same  time  clearing  his  throat).  Captain 
Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Billiard,  she  came 
over  to  our  house  and  axed  me  if  my  wife  she  moutn't 
gp  ?  I  told  cousin  Sally  Billiard  that  my  wife  was 
poorly,  being  as  how  she  had  a  touch  of  the  rheumatics 
in  the  hip,  and  the  big  swamp  was  in  the  road  and  the 
big  swamp  was  up,  for  there  had  been  a  heap  of  rain 
lately ;  but  howsomever,  as  it  was  she,  cousin  Sally 
Billiard  my  wife  she  mout  go.  Well,  cousin  Sally 


180  COUSIN    SALLY   BILLIARD. 

Dilliard  then  axed  me  if  Mose  he  moutn't  go  ?  I  told 
cousin  Sally  Dilliard  that  he  was  the  foreman  of  the 
crap,  and  the  crap  was  smartly  in  the  grass  ;  but  how- 
somever  as  it  was  she,  cousin  Sally  Dilliard,  Mose  he 
mout  go 

Chops. — In  the  name  of  common  sense,  Mr.  Harris, 
what  do  you  mean  by  this  rigmarole  ? 

Witness. — Captain  Rice,  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin 
Sally  Dilliard  she  came  over  to  our  house  and  axed  me 
if  my  wife  she  moutn't  go  ?  I  told  cousin  Sally  Dil- 
liard 

Chops. — Stop,  sir,  if  you  please ;  we  don't  want  to 
hear  anything  about  your  cousin  Sally  Dilliard  and  your 
wife — tell  us  about  the  fight  at  Rice's. 

Witness. — Well,  I  will,  sir,  if  you  will  let  me. 

Chops. — Well,  sir,  go  on. 

Witness. — Well,  sir,  Captain  Rice  he  gin  a  treat,  and 
cousin  Sally  Dilliard  she  come  over  to  our  house  and 
axed  me  if  my  wife  she  moutn't  go 

Chops. — There  it  is  again.     Witness,  please  to  stop. 

Witness. — Well,  sir,  what  do  you  want  ? 

Chops. — We  want  to  know  about  the  fight,  and  you 
must  not  proceed  in  this  impertinent  story.  Do  you 
know  anything  about  the  matter  before  the  court  ? 

Witness. — To  be  sure  I  do. 

Chops. — Well,  go  on  and  tell  it,  and  nothing  else. 

Witness. — Well,  Captain  Rice  he  gin  a  treat 

Chops. — This  is  intolerable.  May  it  please  the  court, 
I  move  that  this  witness  be  committed  for  a  contempt , 
he  seems  to  be  trifling  with  this  court. 

Court. — Witness,  you  are  now  before  a  court  of  jus- 


COUSIN   SALLY   BILLIARD.  181 

tice,  and  unless  you  behave  yourself  in  a  more  becom 
ing  manner,  you  will  be  sent  to  jail ;  so  begin  and  telJ 
what  you  know  about  the  fight  at  Captain  Rice's. 

Witness — [alarmed.] — Well,  gentlemen,  Captain 
Rice  he  gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Dilliard 

Chops. — I  hope  the  witness  may  be  ordered  into  cus 
tody. 

Court — [after  deliberating.] — Mr.  Attorney,  the  court 
.'s  of  the  opinion  that  we  may  save  time  by  telling  wit 
ness  to  go  on  in  his  own  way.     Proceed,  Mr.  Harris, 
with  your  story,  but  stick  to  the  point. 

Witness. — Yes,  gentlemen.  Well,  Captain  Rice  he 
gin  a  treat,  and  cousin  Sally  Dilliard  she  came  over  to 
our  house  and  axed  me  if  my  wife  she  mout  go  ?  I  told 
cousin  Sally  Dilliard  that  my  wife  she  was  poorly, 
being  as  how  she  had  the  rheumatics  in  the  hip,  and  the 
big  swamp  was  up ;  but  howsomever,  as  it  was  she, 
cousin  Sally  Dilliard,  my  wife  she  mout  go.  Well, 
cousin  Sally  Dilliard  then  axed  me  if  Mose  he  moutn't 
go.  I  told  cousin  Sally  Dilliard  as  how  Mose — he  was 
the  foreman  of  the  crap,  and  the  crap  was  smartly  in 
the  grass — but  howsomever,  as  it  was  she,  cousin  Sally 
Dilliard,  Mose  he  mout  go.  So  they  goes  on  together, 
Mose,  my  wife,  and  cousin  Sally  Dilliard,  and  they 
come  to  the  big  swamp,  and  it  was  up,  as  I  was  telling 
you ;  but  being  as  how  there  was  a  log  across  the  big 
swamp,  cousin  Sally  Dilliard  and  Mose,  like  genteel 
folks,  they  walked  the  log ;  but  my  wife,  like  a  darned 
fool,  hoisted  her  coats  and  waded  through.  And  that's 
all  I  know  about  the  fight. 

THE  END. 


STRAY    SUBJECTS, 


ARRESTED  AND  BOUND  OVER: 


FUGITIVE    OFFSPRING 


OLD  'UN"  AND  THE  "YOUNG 


THAT  HAVE  BEEN  "LYING  ROUND  LOOSE,"  AND  ARB  NOW 
"  TIED  UP"  FOR  FAST  KEEPING. 


WITH  EIGHT  ORIGINAL  ILLUSTRATIONS, 

FROM 

DESIGNS    BY    DABLEY. 


T.    B.    PETERSON    AND    BROTHERS, 

806    CHESTNUT    STREET. 


Entered,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1846,  by 
CAREY  AND  HART, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 


WILLIAM    T.   PORTER,    ESQ. 

EDITOR  OF   THE  NEW   YORK   SPIRIT  OF  THE  TIMES, 

THIS     VOLUMB 

IS    RESPECTFULLY    INSCRIBED, 
At    A    SLIGHT    TOKEN    OF    REGARD    AND    ESTEEM 

BY  HIS  FRIENDS 

THE   AUTHORS. 


PREFACE. 


A  VOLUME  like  the  present,  a  mere  collection  of  "  un- 
consklered  trifles/  would  seem  to  require  no  regular 
introduction ;  but,  as  a  preface  is  regarded  as  essential 
to  a  book,  we  can  but  follow  the  fashion  set  by  our 
illustrious  predecessors. 

The  sketches  which  follow  were  written  generally 
to  while  away  a  tedious  hour,  and  fill  nooks  and  corners 
in  the  newspaper  press,  unoccupied  by  worthier  matter. 
The  greater  part  of  them  were  published  in  the  New 
York  "  Spirit  of  the  Times,"  and  the  circulation  they 
received  is  fairly  attributable,  less  to  their  intrinsic  merit, 
than  to  the  high  reputation  of  that  admirable  journal, 
in  which  our  lucubrations  have  been  preserved,  like 
flics  in  amber.  Some  of  the  articles  were  originally 
written  for  the  Philadelphia  "  Saturday  Courier,"  the 


VI  PREFACE. 

Boston  "  Daily  Times,"  the  "  Boston  Weekly  Symbol," 
the  "  Yankee  Blade,"  and  other  papers. 

Making  no  pretensions  to  literary  merit  (as  they 
were  penned  to  serve  a  temporary  purpose),  these 
sketches  are  now  thrown  out  as  a  "  forlorn  hope,"  rely 
ing  on  Barley's  "  pictures"  as  a  corps  de  reserve. 

FRANCIS  A.  DURIVAGE, 

alias  the  "  OLD  'UN." 
GEORGE  P.  BURNHAM, 

alias  the  "  YOUNG  'UN." 


CONTENTS. 


PAOK 
HANS  HOPPER,  THE  HORSE-BREAKER       .  .19 

THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD            ...  29 
FAMILIAR  LECTURES  ON  SHAKSPERE, 

NO.  I— MACBETH 33 

NO.  II.— OTHELLO] 37 

NO.  III.— ROMEO  AND  JULIET 41 

ONE  WAY  TO  NULLIFY  A  BAD  LEASE          ...  45 

SEEING  THE  STEAMER  OFF 47 

"ZAT  IS  MY  TRUNK!" 60 

AN  AFTER-CLAP  TO  A  LAW-SUIT 51 

PURCHASING  A  LIVE  LOBSTER             .  68 
A  PAIR  OF  PARODIES, 

ALICE  GREY 60 

HE  WORE  A  FLASHY  WAISTCOAT        ...  61 

HE  WANTED  TO  SEE  THE  ANIMAL             ....  62 

CON  CERNING  CROWS  AND  CAPE  ANN  JOKERS     .           .  65 

THE  'LEVEN  STRIKE                  69 

THE  « STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER"         ....  74 

THE  STEER  RIDE 77 

HOW  THE  WOLVERINE  DISCOVERED  A  LEAD  MINE— A  FACT  79 

A  YANKEE  ADMINISTRATOR 83 

THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN  WHO  WAS  AVERSE  TO  RACING  87 

A  WINDFALL  FOR  THE  'YOUNG  'UN'  92 


Till  CONTENTS. 

A  TALE  OF  A  TURKEY        .                      ....  OS 

APPLYING  THE  PRINCIPLE 102 

LOVE  IN  THE  BOWERY 107 

DRIVING  A  PARSON  ASHORE 109 

TIM  LINKS,  THE  SHOWMAN 114 

« TOO  MUCH  ALIKE  !» 120 

A  LIVE  YANKEE  "SNORED"  OUT         .           .           .           .  124 

"WOBOT  BARWYMAW" 129 

A  GAME  AT  "SEVEN  UP" 134 

THE  YANKEE  WHO  HAD  NEVER  HEARD  A  GONG       .           .  139 

ONE  WAY  TO  SHARPEN  'EM H2 

NEWSPAPER  ADVERTISEMENTS 147 

HOW  WE  SMOKED  HIM  OUT 151 

CROSSING  THE  ALLEGHANIES            .           .           .                "'     .  158 
THE  MARCH  OF  SCIENCE   ....                      .159 

SELLING  "  JONAS"  AT  THE  TREMONT  HOUSE  ...  163 

BENEVOLENCE  REWARDED 165 

"  DOING"  A  LANDLORD  ....  .171 

HOW  THE  YANKEE  MADE  A  QUARTER        .           .  174 

AN  AMATEUR  PRESIDENT              - '".'          .                       •           .  177 

A  MODEL  OYSTER  SHOP    ....  179 

THE  GREAT  WESTERN  PIE-EATER            ....  182 

"  SAWING"  AN  INSPECTOR 184 

MR.  FAULT Y'S  FIRST  AND  LAST  CLUB  SUPPER          .           .  100 

HOTV  HE  SOLD  'EM     ....  1*4 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


HANS  HOPPER,  THE  HORSE-BREAKER  ....       Frmtispicet. 

THE  QUAKER  AND  THE  LOBSTER Title  Page. 

THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD  ....     Page    25 

THE  CAPTAIN  WHO  WAS  AVERSE  TO  RACING     ...  90 

TIM  LINKS,  THE  SHOWMAN        .  117 

THE  TALL  YOUNG  MAN  OF  TWENTY      .....  149 

BENEVOLENCE  REWARDED 169 

A  MODEL  OYSTER-SHOP  181 


HANS  HOPPER,  THE  HORSE-BREAKER. 

BY   THE    «  OLD    7UN.' 

ON  the  good  old  island  of  Nassau,  not  many  leagues 
distant  from  the  ancient  city  of  New  York,  there  lies  a 
little  isolated  township,  which  is  perhaps  unchronicled 
on  any  map.  Its  houses  are  scattered  sparingly  upon 
the  southern  shore  of  the  island,  and  are  defended  from 
the  keen  sea-breezes  by  the  high  bluffs  that  encircle  the 
small  bay.  The  land  rises  with  a  gradual  swell  from  the 
sea-shore,  until  it  attains  a  somewhat  elevated  height, 
and  the  hills  which  oppose  their  brown  summits  to  the 
northern  blast,  are  clothed  with  stunted  forest-trees,  ap 
parently  of  great  antiquity,  and,  being  squat,  broad-bot 
tomed  and  rusty,  are  not  unlike  the  original  Dutch  set 
tlers  of  this  old-fashioned  place.  The  present  inhabitants 
partake  of  the  amphibious  character  of  their  township, 
being  alternately  fishermen  and  farmers,  and  equally 
expert  in  bringing  forth  the  treasures  of  the  sea  and  land. 
They  are  an  industrious  and  thriving  race,  cherishing 
immemorial  customs,  and  full  of  old-world  virtue  and 
morality.  I  must  except,  however,  from  this  eulogy  a 
certain  individual,  whose  history  forms  the  subject  of  the 
present  sketch. 

Hans  Hopper  was  the  only  son  of  one  of  the  most 
industrious  farmers  of  the  village  we  have  mentioned. 
The  old  gentleman  was  a  little  plodding  agriculturist, 
but  one  doomed  to  suffer  a  variety  of  ills.  It  seemed  as 
if  the  same  seasons  which  were  favourable  to  his  neigh- 


20  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

hours  always  brought  ill  luck  to  him.  He  was  grievously 
afflicted  with  the  murrain  among  his  cattle  and  the  blight 
among  his  corn ;  and  if  he  ever  had  a  crop  that  promised 
remarkably  well,  the  neighbours'  cows  were  sure  to  break 
into  the  field,  or  some  prodigious  hail-storm  to  arise, 
which  made  no  havock  on  adjacent  farms.  Then  he 
was  as  unsuccessful  in  his  fishing.  Although  his  nets 
were  formed  with  extraordinary  care,  the  shad  seemed 
to  have  a  peculiar  faculty  of  getting  through  them,  or 
the  horseshoes  were  immeshed  in  amazing  numbers,  and 
broke  their  way  out,  to  the  infinite  discomfort  of  old 
Hopper.  Thus,  although  as  hard-working  a  man  as  any 
in  the  village,  he  was  doomed  to  suffer  continual  losses. 

The  villagers,  who,  like  the  people  of  most  country 
towns,  are  never  at  a  loss  to  account  for  similar  events, 
declared  that  the  old  gentleman's  ill  luck  was  attributa 
ble  to  prodigality  and  want  of  thrift  in  his  vixen  of  a 
wife  and  his  incorrigible  son.  In  truth,  the  youthful 
Hopper  did  not  promise  to  retrieve  the  fortunes  of  his 
family.  Being  an  only  son,  he  was  the  spoiled  darling 
of  father  and  mother,  and  inherited  the  faults  of  each. 
He  was  much  too  indolent  to  work,  but  when  engaged 
in  the  perpetration  of  any  mischief,  there  was  no  labour 
too  severe  for  him.  He  grew  up  the  terror  of  all  the 
good  housewives  in  the  village,  for  not  a  hen  could 
cackle  in  his  hearing  without  his  discovering  her  favour 
ite  retreat  and  securing  the  new-laid  treasure  in  all  its 
spotless  beauty. 

Unfortunately  for  the  villagers,  Hans  contrived  to  be 
on  good  terms  with  all  the  mastiffs  of  the  neighbourhood ; 
not  a  dog  could  come  into  the  town  without  ackowledg- 
ing  the  charm  of  his  voice,  and  giving  him  a  tacit 
passport  to  all  the  treasures  that  he  guarded.  Hans  was 


BASS  UOOPBR,  TIIR  UOBSE-BREAKER.— Pagt  1'i. 


HANS    HOPPER,    THE    HORSE-BREAKER.  21 

a  famous  bird-charmer,  and  many  an  escaped  canary 
has  he  whistled  back  to  perch,  none  of  which  ever  re 
turned  to  its  original  master.  He  could  wile  away 
squirrels  from  their  autumnal  granaries,  and  call  in  the 
screaming  wild  fowl  from  the  ocean  ;  in  short,  he  seemed 
to  be  a  universal  favourite.  But  it  is  high  time  that  I 
should  attempt  some  description  of  the  hero  of  my  tale. 
He  was  short,  but  strongly  built,  with  square  shoulders, 
and  a  person  equally  adapted  for  feats  of  activity  and 
strength.  His  limbs  were  incessantly  in  motion,  and  it 
was  even  a  penance  for  him  to  sit  quietly  at  table. 
But  this  extreme  mobility  of  body  was  not  participated 
by  the  features  of  his  countenance.  These  remained 
ever  in  repose.  Sometimes,  indeed,  his  dull  blue  eyes 
would  light  up  with  the  smothered  fire  of  merriment  or 
anger,  but  in  general  it  was  a  bootless  task  to  search  his 
countenance  for  a  proof  of  what  was  passing  in  his 
mind.  Let  me  add  that  his  lips  were  thin,  his  nose 
sharp,  his  face  covered  with  light  freckles,  and  his  head 
with  wiry  reddish  hair,  and  you  will  have  as  complete 
an  idea  of  his  appearance  as  I  can  possibly  convey. 

Hans  had  no  sooner  attained  his  majority  than  his 
father  and  mother  died,  leaving  him  their  little  property, 
which  consisted  of  the  paternal  homestead  and  a  few 
hundreds  in  cash  at  interest.  He  now  began  to  think 
of  living  like  a  gentleman,  and  having  laid  down  a  few 
acres  to  oats,  he  purchased  a  fiery  young  colt,  and 
witched  the  village  with  his  noble  horsemanship.  I  have 
mentioned  that  he  possessed  a  wonderful  power  over 
animals,  and  horses  were  not  exempted  from  his  sway. 
The  secret  of  his  magic  was  unknown,  but  like  Cahir  na 
Cappul,  the  Irish  rapparee, 


22  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  He  had  but  to  whisper  a  word,  and  your  horse  would  trot  out 
of  his  stall." 

Every  one  has  heard  of  Jerry  Sullivan,  well  known  at 
Newmarket  and  Epsom,  and  on  the  Curragh  of  Kildare, 
who  was  a  famous  whisperer,  and  had  a  magic  word  by 
which  he  could  subdue  the  fiercest  horse  ;  but  I  take  it 
on  me  to  assert,  that  not  Jerry  Sullivan,  in  his  high  and 
palmy  days  of  equestrian  distinction,  could  exert  so 
powerful  an  influence  over  his  noble  steeds  as  did  the 
redoubtable  Hans  Hopper.  So  remarkable,  indeed, 
were  the  exploits  of  the  latter,  that  he  was  called  Dare- 
Devil  Hans ;  and  it  was  confidently  whispered  in  the 
cosey  coteries  that  assembled  under  the  patriarchal  roof 
of  mine  host  of  the  Green  Flagon,  that  the  youthful  Hop 
per  was  more  than  a  match  for  the  Evil  One  himself. 
Hans  was  aware  of  the  distinction  he  had  gained,  and  to 
such  a  pitch  was  he  inflated  thereby,  that  I  verily  believe 
he  would  have  faced  a  cannon's  mouth  to  sustain  his  re 
putation — especially  if  the  deadly  engine  were  unloaded. 
Hans  had  something  of  a  travelled  reputation  too,  for 
he  had  more  than  once  passed  the  low  barrier  of  hills 
that  sheltered  the  village  on  one  side,  and  brought  news 
from  the  fair  regions  that  spread  in  boundless  luxuriance 
beyond  them.  Mounted  on  his  fiery  colt,  he  made  semi 
annual  excursions  to  Oyster-Bay,  and  once  crossed  the 
perilous  stream  of  the  East  River,  and  penetrated  to 
Bloomingdael,  an  exploit  which  is  yet  talked  of  by  the 
gossips  of  his  township.  In  pleasant  summer  weather 
he  would  trot  his  horse  upon  the  shining  beach  of  Coney- 
Island,  and  fairly  win  the  money  of  the  gentlemen  jockeys 
who  ran  their  steeds  against  him.  A  couple  of  months 
ne  devoted  to  the  ungrateful  task  of  tilling  his  paternal 


HANS   HOPPER,   THE   HORSE-BREAKER.  23 

acres ;  but  that  once  over,  he  idled  away  the  remaining 
portion  of  the  year.  He  was  lazy  enough  to  be  a  poet, 
but  his  exploits  in  literature  were  confined  to  the  perusal 
of  an  odd  volume  of  the  Turf  Register,  and  a  well- 
thumbed  copy  of  Degrafton's  Farriery. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  cash  his  father  left  him  dis 
appeared  ;  and,  forced  to  take  up  some  employment,  he 
became  a  jockey,  and  passed  his  time  in  breeding,  train 
ing,  swapping,  and  selling  horses.  He  was  a  constant 
attendant  at  the  Union  Course,  and  sometimes  came  off 
a  great  winner.  But  the  money  thus  acquired  was  al 
ways  spent  in  vulgar  dissipation — at  the  tavern  or  the 
cockpit ;  and  Dare-Devil  Hans,  with  all  his  magic  power 
over  horses,  had  much  ado  to  support  his  own  smart 
"bit  of  blood." 

At  length  he  became  quite  desperate,  being  deprived 
of  the  means  of  keeping  up  a  figure,  and  revolved  the 
expediency  of  parting  with  a  favourite  horse,  which  he 
still  kept,  notwithstanding  the  decline  of  his  fortunes. 
One  night,  returning  homeward  rather  late,  he  entered, 
in  a  gloomy  mood,  the  piece  of  woodland  which  com 
mences  on  the  decline  of  Flatbush  hill,  between  that  and 
the  pretty  village  of  Flatbush.  The  axe  has  somewhat 
thinned  this  little  forest,  but  at  the  time  of  which  I  write 
it  was  luxuriant  and  dense.  Hans  patted  the  neck  of 
his  favourite  steed,  and  sighed  at  the  thought  of  parting 
with  him.  No  Arab  of  the  desert  was  ever  more 
affectionately  attached  to  the  animal  that  carried  him. 
"  My  poor  Selim,"  said  he,  "  I'm  sorry  to  part  with 
thee,  lad,  for  thou  art,  in  truth,  the  horse  of  my  heart. 
But  poverty  parts  good  company.  They  call  me  Dare- 
Devil  Hans — 'Egad !  I  wish  I  could  only  get  the  speech 


24 


STRAY    SUBJECTS. 


of  the  Old-One,  I  fancy  we  could  strike  a  ba 
the  strapping  of  a  saddle-girth." 

The  words  had  no  sooner  passed  his  lips 
"became   aware"  of  a  gentlemanly  stranger, 
black,  and  mounted  on  a  powerful  charger  of  t 
sable  hue.     It  did  not  strike  Hans  that  he  had  < 
spirit  from  the  vasty  deep,  and  he  accordingly 
his  companion. 

"  A  fine  evening  for  riding — rather  coolish  th 

"  Cool!"  returned  the  stranger  in  surprise : — 

it  as  hot  as ."     'Twas  a  lapsus   lingua, 

checked  himself. 

"Hot!"  cried  Hans — "'Egad,  sir,  you  mu 
from  a  cold  climate." 

"The  contrary,  I  assure  you,"  replied  th( 
They  rode  on  awhile  in  silence. 

"  I  say,"  said  Hans,  with  another  effort  at  ci 
tion ;  "  you've  a  nice  horse  under  you.  Suppose 
paces  with  me  for  a  few  miles." 

The  stranger,  nothing  loth,  consented.  Eac 
cheerfully  to  his  horse  and  touched  him  with  t 
The  two  horses,  fired  with  emulation,  launched 
into  the  rapid  fury  of  the  race.  They  warm  apa 
joints  become  suppler,  their  action  freer,  they  t 
manes  upon  the  night-breeze,  and  snort  with 
enthusiasm.  The  riders  are  as  men  insane — th 
are  as  mad  as  their  masters.  They  stretch  lil 
hounds  in  their  headlong  progress ;  the  nigh 
alone  outstrips  them.  The  flints  of  Flatbush 
for  a  moment  under  foot,  and  then  the  spire  of  i 
church  is  left  away  behind.  Victory  hovere 
moment,  and  then  the  black  steed  shot  ahead. 


HANS  HOPPER,  THE  HORSE-BREAKER.      25 

«« Pull  up !  pull  up !"  cried  Hans,  reining  in  his  reek 
ing  nag.  "You've  distanced  the  best  horse  on  the 
island,  and  you  must  be  the  very  d — 1." 

"  At  your  service,"  replied  the  other,  bowing  very 
gracefully. 

Hans  was  overjoyed — he  shook  hands  with  Eblis,  and 
invited  him  to  honour  his  humble  dwelling  with  his 
presence.  The  invitation  was  accepted,  and  over  a 
strong  jug  of  Hollands  a  compact  was  agreed  upon. 
The  old  gentleman  promised  Hans  to  be  his  banker  for 
three  years,  during  which  he  was  to  enjoy  unlimited 
health  and  credit ;  but  at  the  expiration  of  that  term  his 
Satanic  Majesty  was  to  call  for  the  devoted  Dutchman. 
The  bargain  once  concluded,  the  two  allies  smoked 
pipes  innumerable,  and  it  was  not  until  the  shrill  crow 
ing  of  chanticleer  proclaimed  the  near  approach  of 
morning  that  the  gentleman  in  sables  mounted  his  black 
horse  and  vanished  in  a  very  equivocal  manner. 

Hans  went  to  bed,  and  awoke  about  ten  o'clock  in  a 
very  happy  state  of  mind.  He  eat  his  breakfast,  and 
then  sauntered  down  to  his  usual  haunt,  the  bar-room 
of  the  tavern,  where  he  surprised  some  of  his  phlegmatic 
townsmen  into  an  ejaculation,  by  displaying  a  handful 
of  gold  coins.  It  was  soon  rumoured  about  that  Hans 
had  come  into  possession  of  a  handsome  legacy ;  and 
all  who  had  previously  shunned  him,  crowded  eagerly 
to  make  his  acquaintance.  Foremost  among  the  herd 
of  flatterers  were  those  whose  hen-roosts  had  been 
oftenest  visited  by  the  youthful  Hopper — but  they  forgot 
all  in  the  enthusiasm  of  the  moment. 

Hans  was  now  able  to  hold  up  his  head  among  the 
best,  and  kept  company  with  celebrated  training-grooms 


26  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

and  famous  jockeys,  the  magnates  of  the  land.  He 
bought  a  full-blooded  Virginia  mare,  and  became  a 
member  of  the  Jockey  Club.  All  his  speculations  on 
the  turf  were  fortunate,  and  all  his  drafts  upon  his  secret 
banker  duly  honoured.  In  fact,  his  affairs  were  soon  so 
prosperous  that  he  refunded.to  his  ally  all  the  money  he 
had  loaned  him,  with  a  handsome  interest,  and  refused 
any  longer  to  receive  his  aid.  The  devil  waxed  exceed 
ingly  wroth  at  this,  and  became  as  impatient  for  the  time 
when  he  might  claim  his  due,  as  Hans  was  reluctant  to 
have  that  time  approach. 

Meantime  our  hero,  feeling  the  growing  responsibility 
of  a  moneyed  man,  determined  to  reform  his  evil  habits, 
ceased  to  frequent  the  bar-room  of  the  Green  Flagon, 
and  assumed  a  serious  demeanour.  He  repaired  the 
venerable  mansion  of  his  fathers,  and  having  placed  his 
household  affairs  in  the  strictest  order,  led  to  the  hy 
meneal  altar  the  daughter  of  a  wealthy  farmer  of  Jamaica, 
a  young  and  blooming  girl.  In  less  than  a  year  after, 
he  was  assured  that  his  possessions  would  not  pass  out 
of  the  family  for  want  of  an  heir.  But  in  the  midst  of 
all  this  happiness  poor  Hans  often  shuddered  when  he 
reflected  how  rapidly  the  time  was  passing,  and  how 
soon  his  infernal  creditor  would  come  to  claim  his  dues. 

As  the  fatal  night  drew  near,  his  spirits  seemed  to 
forsake  him.  He  was  often  absent  and  moody,  and 
would  sometimes  sit  by  the  hour  together  gazing  on  his 
wife  and  child  with  tearful  eyes,  and  shaking  his  head 
mournfully  if  any  question  was  asked  him.  The  green 
hues  of  summer  had  brightened  into  the  hectic  tints  of 
autumn ;  the  evenings  were  bleak  and  desolate ;  and 
Hans,  as  if  sympathizing  with  universal  nature,  shud- 


HANS   HOPPER,    THE    HORSE-BREAKER.  27 

dered  as  he  drew  his  chair  closer  to  the  fire.  He  now 
seldom  stirred  abroad,  except  to  exercise  his  horses. 
He  frequented  no  races,  went  to  no  merry-rnakings,  and 
seemed  a  sadly  altered  man.  One  night  his  wife  had 
gone  to  bed  betimes,  and  he  was  left  sitting  up  alone. 
It  was  the  fatal  night,  and  the  hour  was  approaching. 
Poor  Hans  sat  gazing  at  the  dial-plate  of  the  old  clock, 
and  counting  every  tick  with  feverish  solicitude.  At 
length  the  clock  struck  twelve.  Hans  started  up,  and 
listened.  Directly  after  there  was  a  thundering  knock 
at  the  back  door,  and  he  hastened  to  open  it.  Though 
the  night  was  dark,  he  recognised  his  fiendish  creditor 
by  the  fiery  glare  of  his  eyeballs,  and  the  ruddy  glow 
that  issued  from  his  mouth ;  while  his  barbed  tail,  that 
verified  the  portraits  in  the  picture-books,  was  whisking 
restlessly  to  and  fro,  and  describing  arcs  of  circles  on 
the  frozen  ground. 

"  Come !"  cried  his  majesty,  "  you're  vanted." 
A  thought,  so  vivid  and  instantaneous,  that  it  seemed 
providential,  flashed  across  the  mind  of  Hans.  He 
knocked  the  hat  from  the  head  of  his  fiendish  visiter, 
and  ere  the  latter  could  recover  himself,  he  seized  one 
of  his  horns  with  both  hands  and  dragged  b?m  to  a  range 
of  pegs  on  which  he  hung  his  harness.  Before  the 
astounded  demon  could  recover  himself,  HJUIS  snatched 
a  formidable  cowskin,  and  thrust  a  severe  bit  into  the 
mouth  of  the  arch  enemy.  He  then  began  beating  him 
with  might  and  main.  The  tortured  fiend  fell  upon  his 
hands  and  knees.  In  an  instant  Dare-Devil  Ham  sprung 
upon  his  back  and  inflicted  the  severest  discipline.  The 
fiend  bolted  and  leaped  from  the  house,  but  Hans  was 
as  firmly  seated  as  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountain  OP  the 


28  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

back  of  Sindbad.  His  degraded  majesty  roared  beneath 
the  lash,  reared,  plunged,  and  used  every  mischievous 
exertion  of  which  his  tremendous  strength  was  capable, 
to  unseat  his  rider,  but  in  vain.  At  length,  when  he 
was  totally  obedient,  Hans  vaulted  lightly  to  the  ground 
and  let  him  go.  The  liberated  demon  fled  like  a  bolt 
from  a  bow,  leaving  behind  a  long  trail  of  fiery  light  that 
shone  like  the  track  of  a  comet  in  the  evening  air.  Hans 
breathed  freely — he  was  free — but  this  was  not  all ;  for, 
on  going  into  his  front  yard,  he  discovered  the  devil's 
horse  tied  firmly  to  the  palings.  He  endeavoured  to 
lead  the  animal  to  his  stable  ;  but  the  beast  proving  re 
fractory,  he  vaulted  lightly  on  his  back,  and  applied  to 
him  the  same  discipline  which  had  subdued  his  master, 
with  the  same  success.  From  that  time  horse  and  man 
were  friends.  The  creature  (named  Beelzebub,  in 
commemoration  of  his  former  owner)  was  a  valuable 
acquisition,  for  he  won  many  a  plate  and  sweepstakes  for 
his  master,  and  introduced  a  breed  of  colts  into  the 
island  of  extraordinary  strength  and  fire.  Hans  is  yet 
alive,  and  from  his  own  lips  I  learned  his  story.  He 
concluded  his  narration  in  the  following  words;  "  That 
black  horse  was  a  jewel — and  there  was  but  one  bad 
thing  about  him — when  he  was  taken  sick,  brimstone 
wouldn't  physic  him." 

F.  A.  D. 


THE  FASTEST  FUNERAL  ON  RECORD. 

"  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !  the  dead  ride  fast- 
Dost  fear  to  ride  with  me  ?" — Burger's  Ltonora. 

"  This  fellow  has  no  feeling  of  his  business." — Hamlet. 

I  HAD  just  crossed  the  long  bridge  leading  from  Boston 
to  Cambridgeport,  and  was  plodding  my  dusty  way  on 
foot  through  that  not  very  agreeable  suburb  on  a  sultry 
afternoon  in  July,  with  a  very  creditable  thunder-cloud 
coming  up  in  my  rear,  when  a  stout  elderly  gentleman, 
with  a  mulberry  face,  a  brown  coat,  and  pepper-and-salt 
smalls,  reined  up  his  nag,  and  after  learning  that  I  was 
bound  for  Old  Cambridge,  politely  invited  me  to  take  a 
seat  beside  him  in  the  little  sort  of  tax-cart  he  was  driving. 
Nothing  loth,  I  consented,  and  we  were  soon  en  route. 
The  mare  he  drove  was  a  very  peculiar  animal.  She 
had  few  good  points  to  the  eye,  being  heavy-bodied, 
hammer-headed,  thin  in  the  shoulders,  bald-faced,  and 
rejoicing  in  a  little  stump  of  a  tail  which  was  almost 
entirely  innocent  of  hair.  But  there  were  "  lots  of 
muscle,"  as  Major  Longbow  says,  in  her  hind  quarters. 

"  She  aint  no  Wenus,  sir,"  said  my  new  acquaint 
ance,  pointing  with  his  whip  to  the  object  of  my  scrutiny 
— "  but  handsome  is  as  handsome  does.  Them's  my 
sentiments.  She's  a  rum  'un  to  look  at,  but  a  good  'un 
to  go." 

"Indeed?" 

"  Yes,  Sir!  That  there  mare,  sir,  has  made  good 
time — I  may  say,  very  good  time  before  the  hearse." 


30  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Before  the  hearse  ?" 

"Before  the  hearse!  S'pose  you  never  heard  of 
burying  a  man  on  time!  I'm  a  sexton,  sir,  and  under 
taker — JACK  CROSSBONES,  at  your  service — <  Daddy 
Crossbones'  they  call  me  at  PORTER'S." 

"  Ah !  I  understand.  Your  mare  ran  away  with  the 
hearse." 

"  Ran  away!  A  child  could  hold  her.  Oh!  yes,  of 
course  she  ran  away,"  added  the  old  gentleman,  look 
ing  full  in  my  face  with  a  very  quizzical  expression, 
and  putting  the  fore  finger  of  his  right  hand  on  the  right 
side  of  his  party-coloured  proboscis. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  I,  "  you  have  excited  my 
curiosity  amazingly,  and  I  should  esteem  it  a  par 
ticular  favour  if  you  would  be  a  little  less  oracular  and 
a  little  more  explicit." 

"I  don't  know  as  I'd  ought  to  tell  you,"  said  my 
new  acquaintance,  very  slowly  and  tantalizingly.  "  If 
you  was  one  of  these  here  writing  chaps,  you  might  poke 
it  in  the  <  Spirit  of  the  Times,'  and  then  it  would  be  all 
day  with  me.  But  I  don't  care  if  I  do  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it.  Honour  bright,  you  know!" 

"  Of  course." 

"Well,  then,  I  live  a  piece  up  beyond  Old  Cam 
bridge — you  can  see  our  steeple  off  on  a  hill  to  the 
right,  when  we  get  a  little  further.  Well,  one  day,  I 
had  a  customer — (he  was  carried  off  by  the  typhus) — 
which  had  to  be  toted  into  town — cause  why  ?  he  had 
a  vault  there.  So  I  rubbed  down  the  old  mare  and 
put  her  in  the  fills.  Ah!  Sir!  that  critter  knows  as 
much  as  a  Injun,  and  more  than  a  Nigger.  She's  as 
sober  <as  be  d — d'  when  she  gets  the  shop — that's 


THE    FASTEST   FUNERAL    ON    RECORD.  31 

what  I  call  the  hearse — behind  her.  You  would  not 
think  she  was  a  three-minute  nag,  to  look  at  her. 
Well,  sir,  as  luck  would  have  it,  by  a  sort  of  providen 
tial  inspiration,  the  day  before,  I'd  took  off  the  old 
wooden  springs  and  set  the  body  on  elliptics.  For  I 
thought  it  a  hard  case  that  a  gentleman  who'd  been 
riding  easy  all  his  life,  should  go  to  his  grave  on 
wrooden  springs.  Ah!  I  deal  well  by  my  customers.  I 
thought  of  patent  boxes  to  the  wheels,  but  /  couldn't 
afford  it,  and  the  parish  are  so  mighty  stingy. 

"  Well,  I  got  him  in,  and  led  off  the  string — fourteen 
hacks,  and  a  dearborn  wagon  at  the  tail  of  the  funeral. 
We  made  a  fine  show.  As  luck  would  have  it,  just  as 
we  came  abreast  of  Porter's,  out  slides  that  eternal  tor 
ment,  BILL  SIKES,  in  his  new  trotting  sulky,  with  the 
brown  horse  that  he  bought  for  a  fast  crab,  and  is 
mighty  good  for  a  rush,  but  hain't  got  nigh  so  much 
bottom  as  the  mare.  Bill's  light  weight,  and  his  sulky's 
a  mere  feather.  Well,  sir,  Bill  came  up  alongside,  and 
walked  his  horse  a  bit.  He  looked  at  the  mare  and 
then  at  me,  and  then  he  winked.  Then  he  looked  at 
his  nag  and  put  his  tongue  in  his  cheek,  and  winked. 
I  looked  straight  ahead,  and  only  said  to  myself,  <  Cuss 
you,  Bill  Sikes.'  By  and  by,  he  let  his  horse  slide. 
He  travelled  about  a  hundred  yards,  and  then  held  up 
till  I  came  abreast,  and  then  he  winked  and  bantered 
me  again.  It  was  d — d  aggravatin'.  Says  I  to  myself, 
says  I — '  that's  twice  you've  done  it,  my  buzzum  friend 
and  sweet-scented  shrub — but  you  doesn't  do  that  'ere 
again.'  The  third  time  he  bantered  me,  I  let  him  have 
it.  It  was  only  saying  <  Scat,  you  brute !'  and  she  was 
off— that  mare.  He  had  all  the  odds,  you  know,  for 


32  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

I  was  toting  a  two  hundred  pounder,  and  he  ought  tc 
have  beat  me  like  breaking  sticks,  now  hadn't  he  ?  Hr> 
had  me  at  the  first  brush,  for  I  told  you  the  brown  horse 
was  a  mighty  fast  one  for  a  little  ways.  But  soon  I 
lapped  him.  I  had  no  whip,  and  he  could  use  his 
string — but  he  had  his  hands  full.  Side  by  side,  away 
we  went.  Rattle-te-bang !  crack !  buz !  thump !  And 
I  afraid  of  losing  my  customer  on  the  road.  But  I  was 
more  afraid  of  losing  the  race.  The  reputation  of  the 
old  mare  was  at  a  stake,  and  I  swore  she  should  have 
a  fair  chance.  We  went  so  fast  that  the  posts  and  rails 
by  the  road-side  looked  like  a  log  fence.  The  old 
church  and  the  new  one,  and  the  colleges,  spun  past 
like  Merry  Andrews.  The  hackmen  did  not  know 

what  the was  to  pay,  and,  afraid  of  not  being  in 

at  the  death,  they  put  the  string  onto  their  teams,  and 
came  clattering  on  behind  as  if  Satan  had  kicked  'em 
on  eend.  Some  of  the  mourners  was  sporting  charac 
ters,  and  they  craned  out  of  the  carriage  windows  and 
waved  their  handkerchiefs.  The  President  of  Harvard 
College  himself,  inspired  by  the  scene,  took  off  his 
square  tile  as  I  passed  his  house,  and  waving  it  three 
times  round  his  head,  cried,  <  Go  it,  Boots!'  It  is  a 
fact.  And  I  beat  him,  sir!  I  beat  him,  in  three  miles, 
a  hundred  rods.  He  gin  it  up,  sir,  in  despair. 

"His  horse  was  off  his  feed  for  a  week,  and  when  he 
took  to  corn  again  he  wasn't  worth  a  straw.  It  was 
acknowledged  on  all  hands  to  be  the  fastest  funeral  on 
record,  though  I  say  it  as  shouldn't.  I'm  an  under 
taker,  sir,  and  I  never  yet  was  overtaken." 

On  subsequent  inquiry  at  Porter's,  where  the  sporting 
sexton  left  me,  I  found  that  his  story  was  strictly  true 


FAMILIAR   LECTURES    ON    SHAKSPERE.  33 

in  all  the  main  particulars.  A  terrible  rumpus  was 
kicked  up  about  the  race,  but  Crossbones  swore  lustily 
that  the  mare  had  run  away — that  he  had  sawed  away 
two  inches  of  her  lip  in  trying  to  hold  her  up,  and  that 
he  could  not  have  done  otherwise,  unless  he  had  run 
her  into  a  fence  and  spilled  his  l  customer'  into  the 
ditch.  If  any  one  expects  to  die  anywhere  near  the 
sexton's  diggings,  I  can  assure  him  that  the  jolly  old 
boy  is  still  alive  and  kicking,  the  very  <  Ace  of  Hearts' 
and  '  Jack  of  Spades,'  and  that  now  both  patent  boxes 
and  elliptic  springs  render  his  professional  conveyance 
the  easiest  running  thing  on  the  road. 


FAMILIAR  LECTURES  ON  SHAKSPERE. 

No.  1. 

MACBETH. 

IN  these  days  of  modern  improvement,  when  economy 
properly  embraces  time  as  well  as  the  expenditure  of 
money,  literature  as  well  as  manufacturing  pursuits  have 
their  labour-saving  processes.  By  new  methods  children 
are  taught  algebra  and  metaphysics,  and  we  doubt  not 
before  long  that  infants  will  be  weaned  on  Differential 
Calculus  instead  of  sugar  candy.  Everything  has  been 
abridged.  The  History  of  the  World  is  now  compressed 
into  one  duodecimo,  and  all  the  arts  and  sciences  are 
snugly  lodged  in  one  fat  octavo.  We  propose  to  do 
our  part  by  attempting  the  production  of  a  '  Shakspere 
made  Easy,'  hoping  to  get  the  cream  of  the  great  dra- 


34  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

matic  bard  into  a  few  «  neat  paragraphs.'  Our  conden 
sation  will  be  found  to  be  an  adequate  substitute  for  the 
long-winded  lucubrations  of  the  prosy  and  over-estimated 
poet.  As  a  specimen  of  our  plan  and  our  ability,  we 
will  take  up  the  character  and  tragedy  of  Macbeth. 

Macbeth  is  a  Scotch  gentleman,  supposed  to  have 
flourished  in  some  remote  period  of  antiquity,  before  the 
Celts  had  learned  their  letters  or  the  art  of  penmanship. 
Great  nations  always  begin  backwards.  Their  first  pro 
ceeding  is  to  achieve  great  deeds — their  last  to  record 
them.  Some  people  have  doubted  whether  Macbeth 
ever  existed — but  we  have  had  ocular  evidence  that  he 
did  exist.  We  have  ourself  seen  him  in  the  persons  of 
Cooper,  Forrest,  Kean,  Macready,  Anderson,  and  last, 
not  least,  Mr.  Smith  Brown,  to  whom  we  are  inclined 
to  award  the  palm  of  histrionic  superiority.  The  latter 
gentleman  we  saw  perform  the  character  in  a  hall  at 
Lowell  to  a  small  but  highly  select  and  discriminating 
audience,  consisting  of  four  factory  girls,  three  stout 
gentlemen  connected  with  the  Lowell  and  Boston  line 
of  coaches,  and  a  very  enterprising  merchant  in  the 
roast  peanut  and  molasses  candy  trade.  Mr.  Smith 
Brown's  voice  was  rather  more  cracked  and  unmanage 
able  than  Macready's,  and  consequently  better  fitted  to 
portray  the  wild  and  fluctuating  fortunes  of  the  <  Thane 
of  Cawdor.'  In  the  final  fight  with  Macduffhe  revolved 
slowly  on  his  heel,  leaving  his  back  completely  exposed 
to  his  ferocious  adversary.  But  as  '  One  good  turn  de 
serves  another,'  Macduff  generously  refused  to  take  ad 
vantage  of  this  pirouette,  and  Mr.  Smith  Brown  was  not 
killed  until  several  seconds  afterwards. 

In  Macbeth,  Shakspere  seems  to  have  designed  a 


FAMILIAR    LECTURES   ON    SHAKSPERE.  35 

display  of  the  disadvantages  of  being  henpecked ;  for 
Mrs.  Macbeth,  though  a  Scotchwoman,  is  also  a  Tartar. 
She  was  the  original  Mrs.  Caudle,  and  her  curtain  lec 
tures  changed  her  husband  from  a  quiet  performer  on 
the  Scottish  violin  and  an  ardent  lover  of  rappee,  to  an 
ambitious  seeker  after  royalty.  As  there  is  a  long  step 
between  his  original  position  and  that  of  the  monarch 
of  Scotland,  he  determines  to  succeed  in  his,  or  rather 
in  his  wife's  object  by  imitating  the  Catholic  Priests, 
and  cutting  off  all  the  hairs  (heirs)  to  the  crown.  Hence 
he  receives  Duncan  into  his  castle  with  the  cheerful 
politeness  manifested  by  the  spider  to  the  fly : 

" '  Won't  you  walk  into  my  parlour  ?' 
Said  the  spider  to  the  fly." 

Duncan  goes  to  bed.  Macbeth,  in  what  we  always 
supposed  to  be  an  access  of  delirium  tremens,  sees  dou 
ble — that  is,  he  sees  a  dagger  in  the  air  and  another  in 
his  own  hand.  He  walks  into  his  guest's  room,  the 
door  of  which  the  latter  has  forgotten  to  lock,  without 
stumbling  over  his  boots  in  the  entry,  and  giving  him 
his  quietus,  walks  out  again  as  if  he  had  performed  rather 
a  meritorious  action.  When  the  deed  is  discovered,  he 
lynches  a  couple  of  servants  whom  he  charges  with  the 
crime.  We  forgot  to  mention  that  his  success  had  been 
predicted  to  him  by  three  old  maiden  ladies  who  met 
him  and  told  his  fortune  on  what  Shakspere,  with  the 
reprehensible  coarseness  of  his  period,  calls  a  <  blasted 
heath,'  Macbeth  giving  them  a  half  a  crown  to  insure 
him  a  whole  one.  By  force  of  habit  as  well  as  principle, 
he  next  has  his  friend  Banquo  killed — but  the  latter 
gentleman  amuses  himself  by  rising  from  the  grave  and 


36  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

reappearing  unto  Macbeth  at  the  supper-table,  with  all 
sorts  of  unpleasant  faces,  making  himself  as  disagreeable 
as  possible,  until  he  disappears  under  the  stage  by  means 
of  a  trap-door,  to  wash  off  the  red  ochre  and  bury  his 
cares  and  countenance  in  a  pot  of  porter.  After  coming 
a  variety  of  naughty  games,  and  rendering  himself  liable 
to  numerous  indictments,  this  <  fine  old  Scottish  gentle 
man'  is  driven  into  a  corner  by  one  Mr.  Macduff,  a  very 
spunky  and  wrathy  individual,  who  does  not  think  the 
usurper  a  nice  man,  and  declares  the  means  by  which 
he  obtained  the  gilt  paper  coronet  that  is  stuck  on  the 
top  of  his  black  wig,  '  very  tolerable  and  not  to  be  en 
dured.'  To  be  sure,  Macduff  is  rather  prejudiced  against 
the  other  Mac  from  the  fact  that  the  latter  has  chosen  to 
while  away  a  tedious  half  hour  by  putting  Mrs.  Macduff 
and  all  the  little  Masters  and  Misses  Macduff  c  out  of 
their  misery ;'  consequently  he  flares  up  and  fires  away 
and  bestows  many  opprobrious  epithets  upon  Mr.  Mac 
beth,  calling  him  among  other  things  a  <  hell-kite,'  and 
using  other  expressions  unbecoming  a  gentleman  and 
scholar. 

The  upshot  of  it  is,  that  the  twro  Mr.  Mc's  have  a 
pitched  battle.  Some  commentators  have  supposed  that 
previous  to  this  fight  Macbeth  had  become  reduced  in 
his  circumstances  and  sought  employment  as  an  ostler, 
from  the  fact  that  he  talks  about  c  dying  with  harness  on 
his  back ;' — but  as  we  have  discovered  that  harness  and 
armour  are  synonymous,  we  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  might  more  properly  be  termed  a  mail-carrier. 
Macbeth  had  relied  upon  getting  the  best  of  it,  because 
the  three  maiden  ladies  above  referred  to  assured  him 
that 


FAMILIAR    LECTURES   ON    SHAKSPERE.  37 

"  No  man  of  woman  born 
Could  harm  Macbeth." 

But  MacdufT,  being  a  self-made  man,  succeeds  in 
flooring  his  ferocious  adversary.  What  became  of  the 
body — whether  it  was  sold  to  the  surgeons,  or  given  to 
the  friends  of  the  deceased  (if  he  had  any — we  are  in 
clined  to  infer  that  he  had  not,  from  Macduff's  <  hitting 
him'),  neither  history  nor  Shakspere  states.  In  fact,  it 
is  of  very  little  importance ;  and  the  moral  the  drama 
teaches,  is  the  danger  of  one's  permitting  his  better  half 
to  wear  those  habiliments  which  are  the  distinguishing 
characteristics  of  the  costume  of  the  male  sex. 

F.  A.  D. 


No.  2. 

OTHELLO. 

THIS  individual  was  a  coloured  gentleman,  who,  at  the 
period  chosen  by  the  dramatist  to  present  him  to  his 
readers,  wore  a  couple  of  epaulettes,  and  a  broadsword 
much  too  long  for  him,  in  the  service  of  the  Venetian 
Republic.  From  the  frequent  allusions  made  to  the 
intensity  of  his  colour,  we  are  led  to  infer  that  his  pre 
tensions  to  Moorish  origin  were  all  humbug,  and  that  he 
was  actually  a  full  blooded  « nigger'.  In  fact,  a  scrap  of 
poetry,  never  before  published,  in  Shakspere's  ({  mean 
ing  Bill's')  own  hand-writing,  preserved  in  the  Bodleian 
Library,  says,  evidently  referring  to  Othello, 

"  My  nigger,  him  colour  berry  black ; 
He  eat  him  belly-full,  him  drink  him  whack. 
Nobody  dare  play  lark  on  him. 


38  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

Him  got  courage,  so  I  don't  deceive ; 
And  him  so  berry  black,  you  hardly  believe— 
Charcoal  make  a  white  mark  on  him." 

This  is  direct  evidence  worth  all  the  flimsy  specula 
tions  of  all  the  commentators.  Shakspere  says  nothing 
touching  the  origin  and  education  of  his  hero.  He  was 
probably  first  attached  in  a  subordinate  capacity  to  the 
army  of  the  Republic,  being  doubtless  employed  to 
wait  upon  table  and  black  the  officers'  boots. 

Evincing,  we  are  inclined  to  believe,  evidences  of 
pugnacity  in  various  sets-to  with  his  brother  bootblacks, 
and  probably  making  himself  agreeable  to  his  officers  by 
jumping  Jim  Crow,  playing  on  the  bones,  and  imitating 
the  <  bull-gine,'  he  was  at  length  honoured  by  being 
permitted  to  march  in  a  '  forlorn  hope,'  and  unquestion 
ably  earned  a  commission  by  butting  down  a  score  of 
the  enemy.  Step  by  step  he  rises.  He  finally  shuffles 
himself  into  the  good  graces  of  Miss  Desdemona,  the 
mild  and  pretty  daughter  of  a  fiery  old  gentleman  in  a 
white  wig  and  yellow  boots,  named  Brabantio.  They 
elope,  and  run  to  the  nearest  magistrate,  who  unites 
them  in  the  bonds  of  holy  wedlock,  and  receives,  instead 
of  a  shilling,  a  promise  from  Othello  to  '  owe  it  to  him.' 
When  this  proceeding  is  made  known  to  Brabantio  by 
one  Mr.  lago,  an  unpleasant  individual  in  corkscrew 
curls  and  disagreeable  boots,  (<  his  worship's  ancient,' 
or  <  Old  'Un,')  he  grows  very  red  in  the  face,  indulges 
in  numerous  expletives,  and  talks  of  having  Othello 
marched  off  between  two  constables,  in  accordance 
•with  the  old  common  law  adage : 

"He  who  takes  what  isn't  his'n, 
When  he's  caught  must  go  to  prison." 


FAMILIAR   LECTURES   ON    SHAKSPERE.  39 

But  the  Senators,  who  do  not,  like  our  Senators,  wear 
hats  and  hunting-shirts  in  the  Senate-Chamber,  but,  on 
the  contrary,  are  dressed  in  very  red  baize  gowns  and 
very  white  tow  wigs,  are  of  different  opinion  from  Mr. 
Brabantio ;  or  rather,  requiring  the  services  of  the  re 
markable  nigger  who  commands  their  forces,  because 
the  Turks  have  been  menacing  their  frontier,  and  kick 
ing  up  a  confounded  fuss  generally,  listen  to  Othello's 
defence,  in  fact  a  very  lame  one,  and  tell  Mr.  Brabantio 
to  go  about  his  business,  a  recommendation  which,  as 
he  is  a  retired  shop-keeper,  and  lives  upon  his  interest, 
is  adding  insult  to  injury.  To  return  to  his  'Worship's 
Ancient.'  This  unpleasant  individual  gets  hold,  for 
purposes  of  his  own,  of  one  Michael  Cassio,  the  orderly 
sergeant  of  Othello's  own  regiment,  who  commands  the 
guard  at  Cyprus.  This  unfortunate  young  man  is  in 
duced  to  drink  a  large  amount  of  liquor  until  his  intellects 
become  completely  obfuscated,  notwithstanding  which, 
the  Sergeant  asserts  that  he  is  not  drunk  because  he  can 
tell  his  left  hand  from  his  right,  and  to  prove  it,  immediate 
ly  pitches  into  one  Roderigo, '  a  foolish  gentleman  in  love 
with  Desdemona.'  This  coming  to  the  ears  of  General 
Othello,  induces  the  latter  to  dismiss  him ;  a  sentence 
spoken  in  the  following  words  : 

"  Cassio  !     I  lub  thee — 
But  nebber  more  be  ossifer  of  mine." 

To  make  a  long  story  short,  the  unpleasant  individual 
in  the  disagreeable  boots  succeeds  in  making  Othello 
jealous  of  his  wife,  Mr.  Ex-Sergeant  Cassio  being  the 
alleged  invader  of  the  marital  rights.  The  burden  of 
the  proof  lies  in  Cassio's  possession  of  a  pocket-hand- 


40  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

kerchief,  a  white  cotton  one  with  a  strawberry  border, 
•which  Othello,  in  a  sudden  fit  of  generosity,  once  gave 
his  wife.  lago  steals  this  handkerchief,  but  makes  the 
ex-bootblack  believe  that  Desdemona  has  given  it  to 
Cassio.  It  is  easily  identified  by  more  senses  than  one, 
because  Desdemona  is  so  much  attached  to  it  that  she 
never  sends  it  to  the  washerwoman,  although  it  is  in 
constant  use.  The  intelligence  of  the  Ancient's  treach 
ery  and  the  innocence  of  Desdemona  comes  just  in  time 
to  be  too  late,  for  Othello,  being  very  much  put  out 
himself,  puts  out  the  light  with  an  extinguisher,  and  then 
extinguishes  Desdemona  with  a  pillow,  notwithstanding 
his  recent  declaration,  so  finely  given  by  Mr.  Rice,  the 
only  correct  representative  of  the  character : 

"  Excellent  wench 

Perdition  catch  my  sou),  but  I  do  lub  thee  ! 
And  when  I  lub  thee  not, 
SJuiy-horse  is  come  again  !" 

However,  we  are  perfectly  willing  to  allow  that  no 
thing  could  possibly  be  more  handsome  or  gentlemanly 
than  Othello's  full  confession  of  regret,  when  it  is  too 
late  to  do  any  good — the  very  prompt  manner  in  which 
he  puts  his  sword  through  his  Ancient,  as  one  would  pin 
a  fly  against  a  wall,  and  the  complete  amends  he  makes 
to  all  parties  concerned,  by  severing  his  own  jugular 
with  a  rusty  carving-knife,  <  to  the  satisfaction  of  his 
friends  and  the  public  generally.'  The  play  is  deeply 
and  clearly  moral.  It  enforces  on  the  minds  of  young 
ladies  and  gentlemen  the  propriety  of  marrying  people 
of  their  own  colour — it  teaches  statesmen  the  danger  of 
putting  coloured  gentlemen  into  false  positions,  and  teach- 


FAMILIAR   LECTURES   ON    SHAKSPERE.  41 

cs  temperance  to  all  orderly  sergeants  and  corporals, 
whether  of  <  horse,  foot,  or  heavy  dragoons.' — Bill  really 
made  quite  a  hit  in  this  piece,  and  we  hope  he  had  a 
good  benefit  when  it  was  played  on  his  account  at  the 
Globe. 

F.  A.  D. 


No.  3. 

ROMEO  AND  JULIET. 

THIS  play  is  evidently  intended  as  a  bitter  satire  on 
the  very  foolish  and  inconsiderate  manner  in  which  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  immature  age  fall  in  love  with  each 
other  without  the  slightest  provocation,  to  their  own  dis 
comfort  and  discredit,  and  the  intense  aggravation  of 
their  friends  and  relations.  Mr.  Romeo  Montague  is  a 
very  interesting  young  gentleman  who  has  some  preten 
sions  to  good  looks,  and  accordingly  sets  himself  up  for 
an  Adonis,  cultivating  a  moustache,  and  spending  all  his 
pocket  money  in  Cologne  water  and  Macassar  oil.  He 
is  principally  occupied  in  doing  nothing,  sauntering 
about  the  streets  in  company  with  a  pair  of  scapegraces 
of  his  acquaintance,  named  Mercutio  and  Ben  Some 
thing — Ben  Folio,  we  believe.  As  he  is  engaged  to  be 
married  to  a  very  pretty  and  worthy  girl,  with  a  snug 
little  property  of  her  own,  and  a  fair  prospect  of  enjoy 
ing  uninterrupted  happiness,  it  is  of  course  quite  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  young  gentlemen  of  his  kidney  to 
jilt  his  faithful  love  and  tumble  head  over  heels  in  love 
with  one  Miss  Juliet  Capulet,  the  daughter  of  a  gentle 
man  at  deadly  feud  with  Mr.  Romeo's  family — in  fact 
c 


42  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

all  the  Montagues  and  Capulets  are  together  by  the  ears, 
and  even  the  scullions  of  the  opposing  houses  are  sure 
to  pitch  into  each  other  when  they  meet  at  the  butcher's 
shop  or  grocer's  store — it  being  very  natural  for  kitchen 
scullions  to  have  a  broil.  This  Miss  Juliet  we  take  to 
be  a  very  romantic,  novel-reading  sort  of  a  miss,  exces 
sively  given  to  star-gazing,  and  profoundly  ignorant  of 

the  mystery  of  making  pies  and  d g  stockings.    She 

has  an  interview  with  young  Romeo  in  her  father's  gar 
den — he  having  scaled  the  wall  like  a  scaly  fellow  for  the 
double  purpose  of  making  love  and  stealing  horse-ches- 
nuts.  Unlike  Ophelia,  Miss  Capulet  has  a  harsh,  creak 
ing  voice,  as  she  herself  tells  us : — 

"Else  would  I  tear  the  cave  where  Echo  lies, 

And  make  her  airy  tongue  more  hoarse  than  mine." 

Matters  drive  on  very  fast.  After  being  privately 
united  to  Romeo,  Juliet  is  betrothed  to  one  Count 
Paris — but  to  prevent  her  being  indicted  for  bigamy, 
an  old  Friar  gives  her  a  drug  to  lull  her  to  sleep,  and 
she  is  buried  in  a  trance,  in  the  tomb  of  all  the  Capu 
lets.  We  forgot  to  mention  such  trivial  affairs  as  one 
Tybalt's  killing  Mercutio,  and  one  Romeo  killing  Tybalt, 
as  these  little  incidents  were  quite  common  to  the  period, 
and  altogether  beneath  one's  notice.  Romeo,  thinking 
his  mistress  really  dead,  goes  to  an  apothecary  and 
spends  his  last  half-dollar  in  purchasing  a  junk  bottle  of 
bed-bug  poison,  and  an  ounce  of  ratsbane,  with  which 
he  repairs  to  the  vault  of  the  Capulets  to  have  a  good 
cry  upon  Juliet's  tomb,  and  a  comfortable  lunch  on  his 
refreshments.  By  way  of  pastime,  and  just  to  have  one 
more  bit  of  fun  before  he  makes  away  with  himself,  he 


FAMILIAR   LECTURES   ON    SHAKSPERE.  43 

has  a  fencing-bout  with  Mr.  Paris,  who  very  fortunately 
happens  to  be  cooling  his  heels  in  the  churchyard,  and 
puts  his  smallsword  through  that  gentleman's  waistcoat 
in  quite  a  cheerful  and  pleasant  style,  and  much  to  his 
own  satisfaction.  He  makes  his  way  into  the  tomb, 
converses  with  himself  after  the  approved  fashion  of  all 
the  young  gentlemen  in  all  of  Shakspeare's  plays,  takes 
a  good  drink  of  the  bed-bug,  chews  a  little  arsenic,  and 
lies  down  to  cool  himself  off.  It  would  seem  that  the 
druggist  dealt  in  nothing  but  first  rate  articles,  according 
to  the  following  statement  in  the  play : — 

"  Here's  to  my  love !  Oh,  true  apothecary ! 

[Drinks  the  poison.] 
Thy  drugs  are  quick.     Thus  with  a  kiss  I  die. 

[Dies.}'* 

Miss  Capulet  wakes  up,  and  after  rubbing  her  eyes, 
sees  her  lover  stretched  on  the  cold  earth  before  her. 
Observing  a  junk  bottle  near  him,  her  first  suspicion  is, 
that  in  desperation  at  her  supposed  death  he  has  taken 
to  drink,  and  stumbled  into  the  vault  in  a  state  of  inex 
cusable  inebriety  to  sleep  off  the  effects  of  his  debauch, 
and  wake  with  a  headache  the  next  morning.  A  label 
on  the  bottle  in  the  handwriting  of  the  apothecary 
("  Don't  tech  this  'ere — it's  pizen")  undeceives  her. 
She  knows  that  her  lover  has  committed  a  felo  de  se. 
She  hopes  to  find  a  drop  left,  but  Romeo,  determined 
to  get  his  money's  worth,  has  drained  the  bottle  dry. 
After  searching  in  his  pockets,  she  finds  a  double-bladed 
buck-handled  knife,  with  which  the  poor  young  man 
was  accustomed  to  pare  apples  and  whittle  walking- 
sticks,  and  after  calling  it  very  romantically  a  '  dat-ger. ' 


44  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

she  puts  it  into  her  heart  with  a  request  that  it  will  rust 
there,  and  permit  her  as  a  great  favour  to  expire. 

"  This  is  thy  sheath ;  there  rust  and  let  me  die." 

Of  course  the  dagger  has  no  objections,  and  the 
young  lady  expires.  As  a  wind-up  to  this  disastrous 
affair,  which  of  course  found  its  way  into  the  papers  of 
Verona,  and  made  the  fortunes  of  the  newsboys,  the 
Montagues  and  the  Capulets  come  together,  shake  hands 
over  the  remains  of  the  young  gentleman  and  lady,  and 
go  to  bed  with  easy  consciences  and  every  prospect  of 
continued  happiness,  Mr.  Montague  having  made  a  most 
extravagant  assertion  with  regard  to  his  intentions : — 

"  I  will  raise  her  statue  in  pure  gold ; 
That  while  Verona  by  that  name  is  known. 
There  shall  no  figure  at  that  rate  be  set, 
As  that  of  true  and  faithful  Juliet.'* 

As  travellers  and  the  guide-books  make  no  mention 
of  this  golden  statue  of  Juliet,  we  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  Mr.  Montague  was  only  selling  his 
friends,  or  if  the  project  was  undertaken,  it  probably 
fell  through  for  want  of  funds 

F.  A.  D. 


ONE  WAY  TO  NULLIFY  A  BAD  LEASE. 

THERE  is  a  shrewd  and  wealthy  old  Yankee  landlord 
away  down  in  Maine,  who  is  noted  for  driving  his 
<  sharp  bargains' — by  which  he  has  amassed  a  large 
amount  of  property.  He  is  the  owner  of  a  great  number 
of  dwelling-houses,  and  it  is  said  of  him  that  he  is  not 
over-scrupulous  in  his  rental  charges,  whenever  he  can 
find  a  customer  whom  he  knows  to  be  responsible.  His 
object  is  always  to  lease  his  houses  for  a  term  of  years, 
to  the  best  tenants,  and  get  the  utmost  farthing  in  the 
shape  of  rent. 

A  diminutive  Frenchman  called  on  him,  last  winter, 
to  hire  a  dwelling  he  owned  in  Portland,  and  which  had 
long  remained  empty.  References  were  given,  and  the 
Yankee  landlord  ascertaining  that  his  applicant  was  a 
man  <  after  his  own  heart'  for  a  tenant,  immediately 
commenced  to  '  jew'  him.  He  found  that  the  tenement 
appeared  to  suit  the  little  Frenchman,  and  he  placed  an 
exorbitant  price  upon  it ;  but  the  lease  was  drawn  and 
duly  executed,  and  the  tenant  moved  into  his  new 
quarters. 

Upon  the  kindling  of  fires  in  the  house,  it  was  found 
that  the  chimneys  wouldn't  <  draw,'  and  the  building 
was  filled  with  smoke.  The  window  sashes  rattled  in 
the  wind  at  night,  and  the  cold  air  rushed  through  a 
hundred  crevices  about  the  house,  until  now  unnoticed. 
The  snow  melted  upon  the  roof,  and  the  attics  were 
drenched  from  leaking.  The  rain  pelted,  and  our 


46  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

Frenchman  found  a  <  natural'  bath-room  upon  the  cellar 
floor — but  the  lease  was  signed,  and  the  landlord 
chuckled. 

"  I  hav  ben  vat  you  sal  call  <  suck  in,'  vis  zis  dam 
maison" — muttered  our  victim  to  himself,  a  week  after 
ward — «  but  n'importe — ve  sal  see,  vot  ve  sal  see !" 

Next  morning  he  rose  bright  and  early,  and  passing 
down  town,  he  encountered  the  landlord. 

"  A-ha ! — Bon  jour,  monsieur"  said  he,  in  his  happiest 
manner. 

"  Good-day,  sir.     How  do  you  like  your  house  ?" 

"  Ah  !  Monsieur — elegant,  beautiful — magnificent ! 
Eh  bien,  monsieur  ;  I  hav  but  ze  one  regret — " 

«Ah!     What  is  that?" 

«« Monsieur — I  sal  live  in  zat  house  but  tree  little  year." 

"  How  so  ?" 

"  I  hav  find,  by  vot  you  sal  call  ze  leese,  zat  you  hav' 
give  me  ze  house  for  but  tree  year,  an'  I  hav'  ver' 
mooch  sorrowr  for  zat." 

"  But  you  can  have  it  longer,  if  you  wish — " 

"Ah,  monsieur — I  sal  be  ver'  mooch  glad  if  I  can 
hav'  zat  house  so  long  as  I  please — eh,  monsieur  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly — certainly,  sir." 

"  Tres  bien,  monsieur!  I  sal  valk  rite  to  your  offees 
. — an'  you  sal  give  me  vot  you  call  ze  lease  for  zat 
maison  jes  so  long  as  I  sal  vant  ze  house.  Eh,  mon 
sieur?" 

"  Certainly,  sir.  You  shall  stay  there  your  life-time, 
if  you  like." 

"  Ah,  monsieur — I  hav'  ver'  mooch  tanks  for  zis 
accommodation." 

The  old  leases  were  destroyed,  and  a  new  one  was 


SEEING   THE   STEAMER   OFF.  47 

delivered  in  form  to  the  French  gentleman,  giving  him 
possession  of  the  premises  for  "  such  period  as  the  lessee 
may  desire  Hue,  same,  he  paying  the  rent  therefor ,  prompt 
ly,"  etc.  etc. 

The  next  morning,  our  crafty  landlord  was  passing 
the  house  just  as  the  Frenchman's  last  load  of  furniture 
was  being  started  from  the  door ;  and  an  hour  afterwards, 
a  messenger  called  on  him  with  a  <  legal  tender'  for  the 
rent  for  eight  days,  accompanied  with  a  note  as  fol 
lows  : — 

"  MONSIEUR, 

I  hav'  bin  shmoke — I  hav'  bin  drowned — I  hav'  bin 
frees  to  death,  in  ze  house  vot  I  hav'  hire  ov  you,  <  for 
ze  period  as  I  may  desire.'  I  hav'  stay  -in  ze  dam 
house  ljes  so-  long  as  Ipleese,'  an'  ze  bearer  of  zis  vil 
give  you  ze  key! — Bon  jour,  monsieur!" 

It  is  needless  to  add  that  our  Yankee  landlord  has 
never  since  been  known  to  give  up  <  a  bird  in  the  hand, 
for  one  in  the  bush !' 

G.  P.  B. 


SEEING  THE  STEAMER  OFF. 

A  FEW  weeks  ago,  on  the  near  eve  of  the  departure  of 
one  of  the  noble  Cunard  liners  for  Halifax  and  Liver 
pool,  the  state  of  the  tide  compelled  her  to  anchor  in 
the  stream  for  a  few  hours  before  sailing,  and,  as  usual, 
a  steam  ferry-boat  was  employed  to  carry  off  the  baggage 
and  passengers,  and  those  friends  who  wished  to  see  the 


48  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

latter  off.  There  was  of  course,  a  great  shaking  of  hands 
on  board,  some  kisses,  tears,  and  "good-byes,"  a  good 
many  box-coats  and  Mackintoshes  walking  about  on  the 
upper  deck,  and  a  good  many  petticoats  fluttering  about 
the  saloon.  At  length  the  bell  of  the  little  steamer  along 
side  rang  a  warning  peal,  and  her  skipper  shouted  "  all 
aboard  that's  going  ashore,"  an  order  which  was  prompt 
ly  obeyed  by  a  bevy  of  leave-takers,  the  lines  were  cast 
off,  and  all  ready  for  coming  ashore. 

Atthis  juncture,  an  habitually  pale  young  man,  rendered 
paler  by  anxiety,  and  standing  low  down  in  a  pair  of 
very  flat  boots  with  sharp  toes,  exclaimed,  as  he  clat 
tered  riotously  to  the  side  of  the  ferry-boat,  in  the  wildest 
tones  of  agony :  "  Mr.  Badger !  oh !  Mr.  Badger !" 

The  wind  was  fair  for  Charlestown,  and  perhaps  some 
marine  on  duty  caught  the  exclamation. 

"  Hallo !"  yelled  the  young  man,  rendered  frantic  by 
the  efforts  of  the  ferry-man  to  put  off  from  the  steamship. 
"  Hallo !  there's  a  man  on  board  what  hadn't  ought  to 
be  there.  Down  in  No.  39.  Mr.  Badger!  Who'll 
tell  him  ?  you  sir  ?  you  sir  ?  you  sir  ?"  he  hurriedly  asked, 
appealing  to  several  grim  heads  that  were  looking  over 
the  bulwarks  of  the  steamship.  "  Jest  some  of  ye,"  he 
screamed,  "  run  down  and  tell  Mr.  Badger  he  can't 
stop.  He  aint  a  goin'  to  England — he  aint.  He  aint  a 
goin'  to  Halifax  even.  Darn'd  clear  of  it.  He  come 
off  to  see  a  friend  off,  and  I'm  a  friend  of  his'n,  and 
now  he's  a  goin'  off  himself.  Hard  luck !  hard  luck ! 
Mr.  Badger!" 

"Mr.  Badger  must  be  a  werry  deef'un,"  said  a 
mariner  on  liberty,  looking  very  awkward  and  ferocious 
in  <  long-togs ;'  "  Mr.  Badger  must  be  a  werry  deef'un, 


SEEING    THE    STEAMER   OFF.  49 

not  to  a  hard  the  bell,  and  come  ashore.  Such  a  lubber 
deserves  to  be  keel-hauled,  and  then  dumped  ashore  the 
other  side  of  creation." 

At  this  moment  appeared  a  gleam  of  hope  in  the  head 
of  a  steamship  officer,  designated  by  the  blue  cap  and 
gold  band.  "  Hallo !  You  sir,"  yelled  the  young  man, 
"  run  right  down  and  fetch  up  Mr.  Badger."  The  head 
with  the  gold  band  was  neither  nodded  nor  shaken,  and 
the  ferry-boat  swung  clear  of  the  steamship. 

"0!  you  darn'd  old  chowder-head!"  shrieked  the 
insensate  young  man,  shaking  his  fist  with  impotent  fury 
at  the  immoveable  gold  band,  "  you'll  catch  it  one  of 
these  days.  Carrin'  off  a  'Merrikin  subjick!  Where 
you  git  so  much  shiny  hat  band  ?"  Then,  his  unnatural 
excitement  giving  way  to  the  most  helpless  despondency, 
he  sat  down  on  the  green  cushions  in  the  cabin  of  the 
ferry-boat,  buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  as  a  few 
<  natural  tears'  forced  themselves  between  his  fingers, 
thus  soliloquized : — 

"  Hard  luck !  hard  luck !  I  wonder  how  I'll  break  it 
to  his  wife  and  them  children !  Little  did  they  think 
this  mornin'  when  he  gin  'em  a  partin'  lickin'  and  told 
'em  to  be  good  boys  till  he  got  back  agin,  that  they 
would'nt  see  him  for  a  month. 

"By  gracious!"  he  yelled,  warming  up  again:  4<I 
can't  believe  it !  Goin'  to  England — or  least- ways  to 
Halifax !  Tormented  lightnin' !  why,  he  hain't  got  no 
money,  nor  no  shirts  /" 

At  this  moment  came  a  comforter  in  the  portly  person 
of  a  friend  of  ours. 

"  You  needn't  take  it  so  to  heart,"  said  he ;  "  your 
friend  is  a  fool,  of  course,  or  he  wouldn't  have  stayed  on 


50 


STRAY    SUBJECTS. 


board,  but  we're  going  off  back  with  the  mails,  an.il  I'll 
fetch  him  ashore  to  you." 

The  poor  fellow's  face  grew  so  short,  one  would  have 
thought  it  had  been  cut  off;  and  w.ith  a  cheerful  smile 
he  answered  that  he  "  always  know'd  Badger  was  a  jo- 
fired  fool,  but  he  didn't  want  him  carried  off  in  the 
steamer  for  all  that." 

F.  A.  D. 


"ZATISMY  TRUNK!" 

IN  the  days  of  coaching  over  the  Providence  turnpike, 
before  railroad  cars  were  in  esse,  and  baggage-crates  ex 
isted,  and  when  travellers  had  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out 
for  their  luggage,  some  forty  or  fifty  passengers  had  just 
stepped  on  board  the  old  "  Ben  Franklin,"  and  got 
under  way  on  Narragansett  Bay.  A  gentleman,  who  had 
occasion  to  get  some  of  his  wardrobe,  had  just  hauled 
out  from  an  immense  pile  of  baggage  stowed  amidships, 
a  new  black  leather  trunk  of  portly  dimensions,  studded 
with  brass  nails,  when  a  little  withered  Frenchman,  of  a 
mottled  complexion,  and  fashionably  dressed,  darted 
from  the  crowd,  and  interposing  between  our  friend  and 
his  property,  exclaimed,  courteously,  but  positively — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sare — mais,  pardonnez  moi — 
you  have  got  ze  wrong  cochon  by  ze  oreille — zat  is  my 
trunk!" 

"Not  so,  monsieur — I  hope  I  know  my  own  traps." 

"  Restez  tranquille — hold  on — dans  un  instant,  I  vill 
prove  my  props — aha!  you  see  dis  key,  eh?''  Apply 
ing  it  to  the  lock,  he  threw  up  the  lid,  and  then  struck 


AN    AFTER-CLAP    TO    A    LAW-SUIT.  01 

a  triumphant  attitude.  "  My  key  unlock  you  trunk — 
eh  ?  tell  me  zat !" 

"  Stand  out  of  the  way  ! — it's  my  trunk,  I  tell  you." 

"  Hold  on  von  leetle  minute ! — zose  you  shurrts,  eh  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  they  are !" 

"  Zose  you  drowaires,  eh  ? 

"  Certainly  !" 

•  "  Vait  a  moment — I  will  prove  my  props,  sare" — 
and  the  little  Frenchman,  rummaging  beneath  a  pile  of 
shirts  and  socks,  produced  a  bottle,  and  said  deliberately, 
witH  a  hideous  grin — 

"  Zat — your — bot-telle  of  Dom-frees  Ish  (Itch)  oint 
ment — sare — eh  ?  Ave  you  got  von  leetle  Ish  ?  Zis 
you  Remede  for  ze  lepros  (leprosy),  eh  ?  Ah  !  be  dam ! 
I  know  it  was  my  trunk  !" 

It  is  needless  to  remark  that  our  friend  immeidately 
'  opened  a  wide  gap'  between  himself  and  the  interest 
ing  victim  of  two  of  the  most  unpopular  disorders  known 
to  suffering  humanity 

F.  A.  D. 


AN  AFTER-CLAP  TO  A  LAW-SUIT. 

THERE  are  certain  individuals  in  existence  who  are 
prone  to  buckle  themselves  to  trouble,  and  who,  by  their 
own  acts  (instead  of  profiting  by  the  ills  they  suffer), 
are  eternally  piling  misery  upon  their  own  backs.  The 
Devil  loves  to  frolic  with  them — and,  clutching  them  in 
the  cradle,  he  clings  to  them  to  the  grave ! 

It  was  a  bright  day  in  the  summer  of  184-,  when  a 


62  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

score  or  more  of  merry-hearted  fellows  deserted  the 
smoke-dried  atmosphere  of  the  city,  bound  on  an  excur 
sion  some  dozen  miles  distant,  for  the  purpose  of  enjoy 
ing  a  "  sit  down,"  a  comfortable  dinner,  and  a  glass  of 
claret  afterward.  Arriving  at  their  destination  in  safety, 
the  fixin's  were  ordered,  and  in  due  season  dinner  was 
announced,  and  the  company  were  seated.  The  first 
course  had  scarcely  disappeared,  when,  on  a  sudden,  the 
door  of  the  dining  parlour  was  rudely  thrust  open,  and  a 
tall,  brawny,  iron-framed  Virginian  entered  the  room, 
without  the  compliment  of  "  by  your  leave."  As  he 
passed  the  door-sill,  his  stalwart  frame  nearly  filled  the 
passage,  and  his  whole  appearance  plainly  indicated  that 
he  was  strongly  excited.  In  his  right  hand  he  carried 
a  sort  of  heavy  horse-whip,  the  lash  of  which  was  coiled 
tautly  around  the  stock.  As  soon  as  he  had  fairly  en 
tered  the  room,  he  was  informed  that  the  apartment 
was  private,  and  a  hint  was  tendered  him,  that  he  had 
probably  mistaken  the  entrance. 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  said  he,  roughly  ;  "  I  came  here 
on  business." 

"  Business — here  ?" 

"  Here,  sir !  Which  of  you  answers  to  the  name  of 
Pleadwell,  of  B e?" 

"  It  sounds  very  like  mine,"  instantly  replied  Mr.  P., 
who  arose  in  the  coolest  possible  manner,  and  who,  by 
the  way,  measured  scarcely  five  feet  four,  in  his  boots. 

"  Ah — yes,"  continued  the  Virginian,  "  I  recoiled 
you" 

"Well,  sir." 

"  You  sued  me,  three  weeks  since" 

"Indeed?" 


AN   AFTER-CLAP   TO    A   LAW-SUIT.  63 

at  the  instigation  of  Beatem." 


"  Couldn't  say,  sir,  really — but" 

"  But  I  say  you  did,  sir  !" 

"  Ay,  very  likely.  And  you  are  not  the  first  man  I 
have  had  the  honour  of  serving  in  a  similar  manner." 

"  I  thought  so,"  continued  the  bully.  "  You  gained 
the  cause,  and  I  suffered  for  it.  I  paid  my  respects  at 
the  door  of  your  empty  office  this  morning — I  learned 
you  were  here,  and  I  have  followed  you  for  the  express 
purpose  of  giving  you  a  thrashing  for  the  extra  pains 
you  took  to  turn  the  cise  against  me !" 

"  'Pon  my  life,  sir,  your  mission  is  a  novel  one,  at 
any  rate;  but  I  would  respectfully  solicit  the  favour  of 
being  left  at  leisure,  with  my  friends  here,  for  the  time 
being,  and  as  soon  as  dinner  is  over,  I  shall  not  object 
to  giving  you  the  opportunity  to  void  your  bile." 

"  I  am  not  here  to  parley,  sir.  I  am  bent  on  thrash 
ing  you,  and  thrash  you  I  will,  before  I  leave  this  place, 
by  G— !" 

Several  of  the  party  now  arose  and  insisted  on  the 
intruder's  immediate  absence.  He  swore,  however,  that 
he  would  have  satisfaction  on  the  spot,  and  it  was  not 
until  the  company  rose  en  masse,  that  he  consented  to 
leave  the  apartment. 

As  soon  as  the  door  closed  on  him,  Pleadwell  ex 
plained  in  detail  the  case  to  which  he  presumed  the 
stranger  alluded,  concluding  with  the  remark  that  "  he 
feared  he  had  a  bad  fellow  to  deal  with."  He  was 
satisfied,  nevertheless,  that  his  friends  would  not  stand 
by  and  see  him  taken  at  a  disadvantage. 

While  the  wine  was  circulating  the  Virginian  repaired 
to  the  stable,  adjusted  his  whip,  and  returning,  took  a 


54  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

convenient  station  near  the  outer  door  of  the  hotel, 
where  he  expected  Pleadwell  might  pass — swearing, 
meantime,  that  "  he  would  give  the  lawyer  such  a  lesson 
as  he  would  remember." 

This  untoward  visit  was  the  occasion  of  putting  a 
damper  upon  the  hilarity  of  the  little  party  at  dinner, 
and  but  a  brief  sitting  was  indulged  in,  after  the  removal 
of  the  cloth.  The  landlord  entered  the  dining-room  and 
informed  the  visiters  of  the  menacing  prospect,  outside 
— and  the  attorney  having  stepped  to  the  window,  ob 
served  the  belligerent  in  front  of  the  door-way  brandish 
ing  his  massive  whip,  and  muttering  in  the  most  ardent 
and  fantastic  manner  imaginable,  to  himself. 

The  friends  of  Pleadwell  entertained  no  fears  for  him, 
singlehanded,  with  an  ordinary  opponent  (for  he  was 
well  skilled  in  the  pugilistic  art),  but  from  the  enormous 
size  of  the  stranger,  and  his  athletic  appearance  gene 
rally,  it  was  fair  to  suppose  that  he  might  crush  his 
little  antagonist  with  a  single  pass.  Pleadwell  was 
therefore  advised  to  go  out  at  a  side-door,  and  avoid 
him,  but  he  positively  declined  to  show  the  white  feather. 
Finding  remonstrance  of  no  avail,  the  company  passed 
out  in  a  body,  with  the  determination  of  preventing  a 
meeting,  if  possible,  but,  at  all  events,  to  stand  by  their 
friend  in  case  of  need.  The  stranger  saw  the  door 
opened,  and  he  looked  anxiously  for  the  attorney  (who 
was  by  no  means  unmindful  of  his  gestures).  Instead 
of  passing  out  as  the  Virginian  evidently  expected  he 
would  do,  Pleadwell  crossed  the  hall,  followed  closely 
by  his  friends,  and  as  he  arrived  at  the  outer  door,  the 
stranger  having  passed  around  the  house,  turned  in  sight 
at  the  corner.  Pleadwell  stepped  upon  the  walk — the 


AN    AFTER-CLAP   TO    A    LAW-SUIT.  55 

Virginian  saw  him,  sprang  forward  to  the  spot,  and 
levelled  a  blow  at  him  with  his  whip  which  must  have 
brought  the  attorney  to  the  earth,  had  it  reached  him. 
But  the  lawyer  was  on  his  guard-  he  sprang  out  of 
harm's  way,  and  stood  firmly  before  his  foe  at  arm's 
length  distance. 

"  Hold,  sir !"  said  Pleadwell,  hurriedly,  "  the  safety 
of  your  person  rests  with  yourself !  Attempt  to  raise 
that  whip  again,  and  you  must  answer  for  the  conse 
quences." 

The  Virginian  heeded  not  the  warning — his  arm  was 
raised — the  whip  whistled  in  the  air — and  the  next 
instant  the  assailant  dashed  heavily  upon  the  walk !  A 
shudder  passed  over  that  strong  frame,  and  he  was  taken 
up  senseless,  and  carried  into  the  hotel.  Pleadwell 
struck  him  a  terrible  blow  directly  on  '  the  stomach's 
pit,'  which  drove  the  breath  completely  out  of  his  body. 
He  appeared  as  nearly  dead  as  possible — a  physician 
was  called  in,  and  the  injured  man  was  instantly  blood 
ed.  He  showed  signs  of  life,  however,  in  a  few  moments, 
and  half  an  bour  afterwards  it  was  ascertained  that  he 
was  but  temporarily  injured.  The  brief  remark  which 
escaped  him  was  a  faint  desire  to  be  '  carried  home !' 
His  destination  was  made  out,  and  he  was  forthwith 
removed  from  the  hotel. 

The  blow  was  given  in  self-defence,  and  though 
Pleadwell  was  a  good  deal  disturbed  as  regarded  future 
consequences,  yet  a  month  elapsed,  and  nothing  further 
transpiring  in  relation  to  the  matter,  the  rencontre  was 
forgotten  by  himself  and  his  companions. 

G.   P.B. 


PURCHASING  A  LIVE  LOBSTER. 

A  RAW-LOOKING  beauty — standing  some  six  feet  or 
more,  in  his  boots — fresh  from  the  interior,  arrived  in 
town  [Philadelphia]  a  day  or  two  since,  with  a  view  to 
examine  the  '  lions'  in  the  city  of  Friends. 

He  had  walked  leisurely  round  Girard  College — his 
'wondering  gaze'  had  been  gratified  with  a  peep  at 
the  Branch  Mint,  where  a  common-looking  chap '  made 
money'  a  darned  sight  faster  than  ever  he  could ; — he 
had  seen  the  old  United  States  Bank,  but,  for  the  life 
of  him,  couldn't  find  the  place  where  it  had  busted ! — 
he  had  sauntered  through  Fairmount,  where  some  'cute 
feller  was  squirting  water  round,  most  beautiful — he 
had  marched  around  the  outskirts  of  the  Penitentiary, 
but  they  weren't  sharp  enough  to  get  him  in  there — oh, 
no ! — he  had  trotted  through  the  Museum,  which  he 
didn't  consider  any  very  'great  shakes' — and,  just  be 
fore  leaving  in  the  eight  o'clock  train,  for  home,  he 
strolled  down  to  the  Market-house,  to  ascertain,  if  possi 
ble,  where  all  the  vegetables  and  things  went  to. 

Having  examined  the  premises  for  some  time,  he 
suddenly  halted  before  a  wagon  which  stood  near  by, 
the  floor  of  which  was  covered  with  about  a  score  of 
live  lobsters,  wriggling  and  tumbling  over  each  other. 
He  was  unfortunately  afflicted  with  a  habit  of  stammer 
ing.  After  watching  the  'sight'  for  several  minutes, 
he  sidled  up  to  the  owner,  at  last,  with — 

f<  Wo-wo-wot's  them,  mister  ?" 


PURCHASING    A   LIVE   LOBSTER.  57 

"  Lobsters,  sir." 


"  Yes,  sir.     Werry  fine." 

"  W-wul  —  I've  heern  te-tell  o'lobstiss." 

"  Hexcellent  heatin',  sir  —  is  lobsters.    Hev  Jun,  sir  ?" 

"  W-wu-wul,  I  reck'n  y-y-yes.  Wo-wot's  the  dam- 
age?" 

"  Three  levies,  sir." 

"  How  d-d  —  how  do  you  eat  lo-lob-'obstiss  ?" 

"  Vith  yer  teeth,  pooty  gin'ral,  sir." 

"  Y'ye-yes.     But  coo-coo-'ooA:  'em,  I  mean." 

"Oh.  Bile  'em,  sir  —  bile  'em.  Thank'ee:  jest  the 
change"  —  added  the  wagoner;  and,  depositing  the 
'  tin'  in  his  '  shot-bag,'  he  placed  the  '  lobstiss'  in 
the  hands  of  its  lawful  owner. 

The  stranger  bade  the  seller  good  day,  placed  his 
prize  under  his  arm,  tail  downwards  —  and  started  for 
the  Rail  Road  Depot  in  Market  Street. 

The  lobster  was  {  fresh  caught'  (it  so  chanced)  and 
proved  very  unruly  —  squirming  and  writhing  about  ; 
our  countryman  was  constantly  adjusting  his  burthen, 
until  he  had  finally  managed  to  raise  its  claws  on  a  line 
with  the  side  of  his  own  head.  Suddenly  one  of  the 
critter's  flippers  extended,  and  closed  again  with  a  smart 
smack  —  grasping  in  its  clutch,  the  greater  portion  of 
the  poor  fellow's  right  ear  ! 

An  indescribable  twist  pervaded  the  countryman's 
phiz  —  his  teeth  became  set  in  an  instant  —  and  lowering 
his  head,  he  started  into  a  rapid  walk  —  with  — 

"  —  'od  rot  him!  Oh  —  th-under!  —  Le-le-let  go! 
B-b-bla-blast  yur  pictur  !  —  don't  —  ough  !  Mur-m-mur- 
der  —  murder  !  /" 


58  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

A  bevy  of  youngsters  had  discovered  the  poor  devil's 
predicament,  as  he  rushed  along  the  walk,  and  he  soon 
quickened  his  pace  into  a  sharp  trot,  making  good  head 
way  towards  the  Depot,  the  lobster  dangling  from  the 
side  of  his  head  like  a  huge  old-fashioned  ear-drop !  As 
the  crowd  gathered  on  his  track,  he  increased  his  speed 
to  a  "  dead  run" — still  bawling,  at  the  top  of  his  lungs — 

"  Oh  Lord  ! — ta-ta-'ake  him  off!  M-m-mur-dar  / — 
Cu-cu-cuss  him  !  Take  him  dow-d-'own  !" 

"  Go  it,  Boots !"  shouted  the  crowd. 

"Pu-pu-'ull  the  c-c-cussid  varmint  off !  Ta-'ake  him 
back  ! — I  d-d-don't  wa-'ant  no  lo-lo-'obstiss  " — and 
stopping  suddenly,  before  a  benevolent-looking  Quaker 
gentleman,  upon  the  walk,  he  begged  him  to  take  the 
infernal  viper  away ! 

The  countryman's  ear  resembled  a  purple-ripe  plum, 
when  the  kind-hearted  gentlemen  seized  the  claw  and 
relieved  him  of  his  load.  As  the  circulation  of  blood 
resumed — the  unhappy  victim  bestowed  on  his  benefac 
tor  a  kind  of  smile  (unable  to  articulate  a  syllable)  such  a 
smile  as  one  might  suppose  would  result  from  screwing 
an  inch  auger  through  the  spine  of  a  man's  back. 

Our  unfortunate  friend  was  grateful,  but  he  couldn't 
speak.  It  was  now  the  turn  of  the  Quaker  gentleman 
to  smile — because  he  couldn't  help  it — the  object  before 
him  appeared  so  perfectly  ludicrous.  But  his  was  a 
bland  smile  of  sympathy,  such  a  one  as  only  a  Quaker 
can  bestow. 

But  our  benevolent  friend  in  the  broad  brim,  was 
careless — he  was!  In  his  efforts  to  aid  the  unlucky 
countryman,  he  had  secured  the  lobster  by  the  claw, 
and  he  still  held  him  dangling  at  his  side. 


'  Take  him  away,"  shrieked  the  Quaker,  nearly  fainting  with  pain."—  Pagt  50. 


A  PAIR  OF  PARODIES. 

ALICE  GRAY. 

SHE  isn't  what  I  painted  her — 

A  thing  all  hearts  to  win — 
I  saw  no  beauty  when  I  found 

She  hadn't  got  the  <  tin.' 
I  loved  her  upwards  of  a  week — 

But  found  it  wouldn't  pay ; 
So  I  '  took  my  hat  and  went  ashore* 

And  cut  Miss  Alice  Gray. 

Her  dark  brown  hair  was  all  a  sham — 
Her  forehead  '  Jones's  white,' 

One  eye  an  artificial  one, 
The  other  far  from  bright. 

Oh !  she  may  twine  her  purchased  curls- 
She  mustn't  look  this  way — 

My  heart  is  far  from  breaking 
For  the  love  of  Alice  Gray. 

I've  sunk  a  very  pretty  sum 
In  rides  and  sweetmeats  past ; 

And  haven't  now  the  first  red  cent- 
She  drained  me  of  the  last. 


HE    WORE   A    FLASHY    WAISTCOAT.  61 

How  green  I  was,  in  earnest  grave, 

I  certainly  must  say ; 
I  shall  be  cut  by  all  the  «  B'hoys* 

For  courting  Alice  Gray. 


HE  WORE  A  FLASHY  WAISTCOAT. 

HE  wore  a  flashy  waistcoat,  on  the  night  when  first  we 

met, 

With  a  famous  pair  of  whiskers  and  imperial  of  jet ; 
His  air  had  all  the  haughtiness,  his  voice  the  manly  tone 
Of  a  gentleman  with  eighty  thousand  dollars  of  his  own. 
I  saw  him  but  a  moment,  yet  methinks  I  see  him  now, 
With  a  very  flashy  waistcoat  and  a  beaver  on  his  brow. 

And   once  again  I  saw  that  brow  —  no  neat  « Legay' 

was  there, 
But  a  <  shocking  bad  'un'  was  his  hat,  and  matted  was 

his  hair. 
He  wore  a  <  brick'  within  that  hat — the  change  was  all 

complete — 
And  he  was  flanked  by  constables  who  marched  him  up 

the  street. 

I  saw  him  but  a  moment,  yet  methinks  I  see  him  now, 
Charged  bv  those  worthy  officers  with  kicking  up  a  row. 

F.  A.  D. 


HE  WANTED  TO  SEE  THE  ANIMAL. 

THE  publishers  of  a  well  known  periodical  in  town, 
have  placed  in  front  of  their  office,  in  Tremont  street, 
a  very  extensive  sign  board,  upon  which  is  emblazoned 
the  words — 

*  LITTELL'S 
LIVING  AGE/ 

A  green  horn,  fresh  caught — who  came  to  the  city 
to  look  at  the  <  glorious  Fourth' — chanced  to  be  pass 
ing  towards  the  Common,  when  his  attention  was  ar 
rested  by  the  above  cabalistic  syllables.  Upon  one  side 
of  Bromfield  street  he  saw  the  big  sign,  upon  the  other 
the  word  '  MUSEUM.' 

"  Wai,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  I  've  hearn  tell  o'  them 
museums,  but  a  '  livin'  age,'  big  or  little,  must  be  one 
o'  them  curiosities  we  read  abaout." 

He  stepped  quietly  across  the  street,  and  wiping  his 
face,  approached  one  of  the  windows,  in  which  were 
displayed  several  loose  copies  of  the  work.  He  read 
upon  the  covers,  'Littell's  Living  Age,'  and  upon  a 
card,  '  Popular  Magazine — only  one  of  its  kind  in  the 
country,'  &c. 

"  Magazine  !  Wai,  that  beats  thunder  all  teu  smash ! 
I  've  hearn  abaout  paouder  magazines,  an'  all  that ; 
— wal,  I  reck'n  I'll  see  the  crittur,  enny  how  !" — and 
thus  determined,  he  cautiously  approached  the  door.  A 
young  man  stood  in  the  entrance. 


HE   WANTED    TO    SEE    THE   ANIMAL.  63 

"  When  does  it  open  ?"  asked  the  countryman. 

"What,  sir?" 

"  Wot  time  does  it  begin  ?" 

"What?" 

"  The  show  !" 


"  Wy,  that  are  —  this"—  continued  our  innocent  friend, 
pointing  up  to  the  sign. 

The  young  man  evidently  supposed  the  stranger  in 
sane  —  and  turning  on  his  heel,  walked  into  the  office. 

"  Wai,  I  dun  no  'baout  that  feller,  much  —  but  I  reck- 
'n  I  hevn't  cum  a  hunderd  miles  to  be  fooled  —  I  ain't, 
and  I'm  goin'  teu  see  the  crittur,  sure." 

"Hello!  I  say,  Mr.  Wat's-name,  there  —  doorkeep 
er!  HeWo/ 

A  clerk  stepped  to  the  door  at  once,  and  inquired 
the  man's  business. 

"  Wot  do  I  want  ?  Wy,  I  want  to  see  the  animal, 
that's  all." 

"What  animal?" 

"  Wy,  this  crittur  -  ." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,  sir." 

"  Wai  —  you  don't  luk  as  ef  you  could  understan'  no- 
buddy,  enny  how.  Jes  send  the  doorkeeper  yere." 

By  this  time  a  crowd  had  collected  in  and  about  the 
doorway,  and  the  green  'un  let  off  something  like  the 
following  :  — 

"  That  chap  as  went  in  fust,  thar,  ain't  nobuddy,  ef  he 
has  got  a  swaller-tailed  coat  on.  My  money's  as  good 
as  his'n,  and  it's  a  free  country  to-day.  This  young 
man  ain't  to  be  fooled  easy,  now  I  tell  you.  I  cum 
down  to  see  the  Fourth,  and  I've  seen  him.  This  mor- 


O4  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

ninj  I  see  the  elephant,  and  naow  I'm  bound  to  see  this 
crittur.  Hel-/o — there,  mister !" 

As  no  one  replied  to  him,  however,  he  ventured  again 
into  the  office,  with  the  crowd  at  his  heels,  and  address 
ing  one  of  the  attendants,  he  inquired — 

"  Wot's  the  price,  nabur  ?" 

"  The  price  of  what,  sir  ?" 

"Of  the  show!" 

"  There  is  no  show  here, — " 

"  JVb  show  !  What'n  thunder  der  yer  leave  the  sign 
out  for,  then  ?" 

"What  would  you  like  to  see,  sir?"  said  another 
gentleman. 

"  Why,  I  want  to  see  the  animal." 

"The  animal?" 

"  Yes— the  crittur." 

"  I  really  do  not  understand,  sir." 

"Why  yes  yer  dew.  I  mean  the  wot's- name,  out 
there" — pointing  to  the  door. 

"Where?" 

"  Hevn't  yer  gut  a  sign  over  the  door,  of  a  "  little 
LIVIN' — sum  thin',  hereabouts  ?" 

"  LITTELL'S  LIVING  AGE  ?" 

"  That's  the  crittur — them's  um — trot  him  aout,  na 
bur,  and  yere's  yure  putty." 

Having  discovered  that  he  was  right  (as  he  suppo 
sed),  he  hopped  about,  and  got  near  the  door  again. 

Pending  the  conversation,  some  rascally  wag  in  the 
crowd,  had  contrived  to  attach  half  a  dozen  lighted  fire 
crackers  to  the  skirt  of  our  green  friend's  coat ;  and  as 
he  stood  in  the  attitude  of  passing  to  the  supposed  door 
keeper  a  quarter — crack !  bang  !  went  the  fire- works, 


CONCERNING  CROWS  AND  CAPE  ANN  JOKERS.   65 

and  at  the  same  instant  a  loafer  sang  out  at  the  top  of 
his  lungs — «  look  out !  the  crittur's  loose  /" 

Perhaps  the  countryman  didn't  leave  a  wide  wake  be 
hind  him  in  that  crowd,  and  maybe  he  didn't  astonish  the 
multitude  along  Colonnade  Row,  as  he  dashed  towards 
the  foot  of  the  Common,  with  his  smoking  coat-tails 
streaming  in  the  wind ! 

Our  victim  struck  a  bee-line  for  the  Providence  De 
pot,  reaching  it  just  as  the  cars  were  ready  to  go  out. 
The  crowd  arrived  as  the  train  got  under  way,  and  the 
last  we  saw  of  the  '  unfortunate/  he  was  seated  at  a 
window  whistling  most  vociferously  to  the  engine,  to 
hurry  it  on ! 

G.  P.  B. 


CONCERNING  CROWS  AND  CAPE  ANN 
JOKERS. 

I  HAVE  always  had  a  great  respect  for  the  common 
crow,  Corvus  Jlmericanus  I  believe  the  ornithologists 
call  him.  There  is  something  remarkable  and  imposing 
in  his  attire. 

"  The  carrion  crow  has  a  coat  of  black, 
Silky  and  sleek,  like  a  priest's,  to  his  back." 

Then  he  commands  respect  by  his  superior  intelligence. 
No  one  knows  better  than  he  where  and  how  grub  may 
be  obtained,  in  defiance  of  spring-guns,  fire-arms,  and 
scarecrows.  How  many  a  solemn  haw  !  haw !  must  he 
have  indulged  in  on  surveying  the  libellous  imitations 
of  humanity  erected  by  rustics  upon  planted  fields  in  the 


66  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

idle  hope  of  terrifying  him  by  so  poor  a  semblance  of 
danger.  These  shabby  proofs  of  man's  fatuity  must 
afford  him  an  additional  relish  to  his  stolen  morsel,  as 
he  roots  up  the  delicious  kernels  with  his  active  and 
avid  bill.  How  often  has  the  solemn  rascal  mocked  at 
me  hi  my  younger  days  as  I  have  trailed  him,  mile 
upon  mile,  on  foot,  through  the  fog  and  slosh  of  a 
January  thaw,  in  the  vain  hope  of  catching  him  napping 
— for  my  respect  never  prevented  my  vain  demonstra 
tions  of  hostility.  In  a  group  of  friends  the  other 
day, '  talking  of  guns'  brought  up  the  subject  of  crows 
— and  one  or  two  gentlemen  recounted  the  details  of 
successful  campaigns  waged  against  them.  The  boys 
up  hi  New  Hampshire  used  to  ascertain  the  bearings  of 
a  crow's  nest,  and  then  plant  a  loaded  musket  sighted 
and  aimed  properly  at  the  devoted  citadel.  Returning 
in  the  night,  when  the  old  bird  was  asleep  on  the  nest, 
they  would  pull  trigger,  and  annihilate  the  enemy.  One 
of  the  speakers  recounted  an  achievement  of  his  own. 
At  a  time  when  there  was  a  large  bounty  on  crows,  he 
determined  to  destroy  two  old  birds  and  their  young 
ones  by  a  bold  coup  de  main.  Their  nest  was  in  the 
summit  of  an  old  pine  tree,  but  the  position  was  com 
manded  by  an  over-topping  hemlock;  the  latter  he 
ascended,  and  daringly  sliding  down  a  dependant  branch, 
was  enabled  (mirdbile  dictu  /)  to  seize  the  she-bird  on 
her  nest.  This  time,  for  once,  a  crow  was  caught  asleep 
in  the  day-time.  Breaking  both  her  wings,  he  threw 
her  to  the  ground,  and  her  hapless  offspring,  five  in 
number,  followed  after.  He  then  descended,  and  shot 
the  old  he  as  he  was  flying  round,  moaning  piteously  in 
his  paternal  agony.  No  Roman  victor  moving  though 
the  via  sacra  with  seven  kings  at  his  chariot  wheels, 


CONCERNING  CROWS  AND  CAPE  ANN  JOKERS.   67 

felt  more  elation  of  heart  than  the  youthful  victor,  as  he 
carried  home  his  trophies  and  touched  the  tin  accorded 
by  way  of  laurels  by  the  state. 

I  have  told  you  that  Cape  Ann  furnished  a  number 
of  queer  jokers.  One  of  these  met  an  apothecary,  who 
was  his  especial  butt  at  one  of  the  '  town  meetings'  in 
Gloucester,  and  thus  hailed  him  in  the  hearing  of  a  large 
crowd  of  attentive  auditors : 

"  Doctor !  that  'ere  ratsbane  of  your'n  is  first-rate." 

"  Know'd  it !  know'd  it,"  said  the  pleased  apothecary. 
"  Don't  keep  nothing  but  fust-rate  doctor's  stuff." 

"  And,  doctor,"  continued  the  joker,  coolly,  "  I  want 
to  buy  another  pound  of  ye." 

"  Another  pound  ?" 

"  Yes — sir — I  gin  that  pound  I  bought  the  other  day 
to  a  pesky  mouse — and  it  made  him  dreadful  sick — and 
I  am  pretty  sure  another  pound  would  kill  him." 

A  roar  of  laughter,  at  the  apothecary's  expense, 
hailed  this  grateful  tribute  to  the  excellence  of  his  doc 
tor's  stuff. 

There  was  a  queer  old  file,  as  tart  as  he  was  ignorant, 
who  was  one  day  starting  off  to  a  dedication  on  horse 
back,  with  his  old-maid  sister  on  the  pillion  behind  him. 

"  Hello !  Uncle  Seth !  where  you  goin'  ?"  said  a 
neighbour,  hailing  the  equestrian. 

"Goin'  to  resurrection!" 

"  Dedication,  you  mean." 

"  Damnation !  if  you  like  that  better !  Hang  on,  Sal ! 
G'lang,  ye  jade  !"  and  the  old  mare  galloped  off. 

There  was  a  certain  lawyer  on  the  Cape  a  long  time 
ago,  the  only  one  in  those '  diggin's'  then,  and,  for  aught 
I  know,  at  present.  He  was  a  man  well  to  do  in  the 


68  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

world,  and,  what  was  somewhat  surprising  in  a  limh  of 
the  law,  averse  to  encouraging  litigation. 

One  day  a  client  came  to  him  in  a  violent  rage. 

"  Look  a  here,  squire,"  said  he,  "  that  'ere  blasted 
shoemaker  down  to  Pigeon  Cove  has  gone  and  sued  me 
for  the  money  for  a  pair  of  boots  I  owed  him." 

"  Did  the  boots  suit  you  ?" 

"  Oh !  yes — I've  got  'em  on — fust-rate  boots." 

"Fair  price?'' 

"  Oh !  yes." 

"  Then  you  owe  him  the  money  honestly  ?" 

"  'Course." 

"  Well,  why  don't  you  pay  him  ?" 

"  Why,  'cause  the  blasted  snob  went  and  sued  me, 
and  I  want  to  keep  him  out  of  the  money  if  I  kin." 

"  It  will  cost  you  something." 

"  I  don't  keer  a  cuss  for  that.  How  much  money  do 
you  want  to  begin  with  ?" 

"  Oh,  ten  dollars  will  do." 

" Is  that  all?  Well,  here's  a  X,  so  go  ahead,"  and 
the  client  went  off  very  well  satisfied  with  the  beginning. 

Our  lawyer  next  called  on  the  shoemaker,  and  asked 
him  what  he  meant  by  commencing  legal  proceedings 
against  M * 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  I  kept  on  sendin'  and  sendin'  to 
him  for  money  till  I  got  tired.  I  know'd  he  was  able 
to  pay — and  I  was  'termined  to  make  him.  That's  the 
long  and  short  of  it." 

"  Well,"  said  the  lawyer — "  he's  always  been  a  good 
customer  to  you,  and  I  think  you  acted  too  hastily. 
There's  a  trifle  to  pay  on  account  of  your  proceeding — 
but  I  think  you'd  better  take  this  five  dollars,  and  call 
it  all  square." 


THE  'LEVEN  STRIKE.  69 

"  Certin — squire — if  you  say  so — and  darned  glad 
to  get  it,"  was  the  answer. 

So  the  lawyer  forked  over  one  V  and  kept  the  other. 
In  a  few  days  his  client  came  along  and  asked  him  how 
he  got  on  with  his  case.  ' 

"  Rapidly,"  cried  the  lawyer — "  we've  non-suited 
him !  he'll  never  trouble  you." 

"  Jerusalem !  that's  great !"  cried  the  client — "  I'd 
rather  a  gin  fifty  dollars  than  have  had  him  got  the 
money  for  them  boots !" 

F.  A.  D. 


•9 

THE  GHOST  OF  THE  TEN-PIN  ALLEY: 

A  LEGEND  OF  PARK  BALL,  BOSTON. 

'TwAS  late,  and  midnight  darkness 
Hung  the  heavens  as  with  a  pall, 

When  the  OLD  'UN  came  to  handle 
Lignum  Vita  in  Park  Hall. 

And  with  him  a  companion 

To  roll  against  him  came, 
Superior  to  the  Ancient 

In  the  science  of  the  game. 


70  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

Dim  were  the  bar-room  lustres, 
Dark  shelves  dark  bottles  bore, 

Fantastic  were  the  shadows 
Projected  on  the  floor. 

Ah  me  !  a  weary  e  critter' 
Was  the  sad  barkeeper  then, 

Just  thinking  was  he  of  his  bed, 
When  entered  those  two  men. 

Then  out  and  spake  the  OLD  'UN — • 
"  Rouse  up  and  get  the  key 

That  in  the  Diorama  Hall, 
Unlocks  the  west  M-ley" 

"  Our  boy  is  sick — has  cut  his  stick — 

Absquatulating  elf ! 
And  if  ye  roll  to-night,  ye'll  have 

To  set  'em  up  yourself." 

"  Small  work,  I  trow,"  the  OLD  'UN  said, 
"  For  one  who  loves  the  game ;" 

And  he  who  stood  beside  him  there 
Smiled  and  endorsed  the  same. 

The  pins  are  set — the  fingers  wet — 
The  OLD  'UN  takes  his  stand  ; 

Why  stands  he  hesitating  there, 
The  ball  within  his  hand  ? 

Say — comes  there  aught'  of  evil 

Their  pleasure  to  alloy  ? 
All  suddenly  before  the  pins 

Loomed  up  the  ten-pin  boy. 


THE  'LEVEN  STRIKE.  71 

A  wan  and  dreary  wight  was  he — 

An  outline  of  a  boy — 
With  a  meagre  faded  jacket, 

And  pants  of  corduroy. 

"  Say,  boy !  why  come  you  here  so  late, 

Or  why  came  here  at  all  ? 
For  the  old  Bay  State  clear  the  track, 

Or  look  out  for  the  ball." 

He  never  moved,  that  urchin — 

Scarce  like  a  thing  alive, 
He  heeded  not  the  OLD  'UN'S  shout 

"  Be  warned,  for  I'll  let  drive  !" 

Right  through  his  faded  legs,  the  ball 

Went  winding  on  its  way — 
Right  towards  the  OLD  'UN  and  his  friend 

Glided  that  figure  gray. 

"  List,  gents,  to  me,"  the  boy  said  he ; 

"  I  foller  not  the  trade 
I  did  afore  they  made  my  bed 

With  mattock  and  with  spade, 
And  I  was  took  to  my  last  home, 

And  in  the  dead  wood  laid. 

"  I  am  a  orphin,  for  my  dad 

A  nd  mam  died  long  ago, 
And  I  came  here  to  set  up  pins" 

The  OLD  'UN  said,  "  Just  so." 


72  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  The  folks  was  very  kind  to  me — 

Life  rolled  on  like  a  ball ; 
And  it  seemed  a  kind  of  Paradise, 

This  Diorama  Hall. 

"  One  night  there  came  a  stranger — 

A  horrid  man  was  he — 
And  he  gave  his  name  as  Mister  Blood 

From  the  state  of  Tennessee. 

"  He  bolted  brandy  by  the  pint ; 

And  his  breath  it  was  so  strong 
It  broke  the  tumbler  when  he  drank, 

And  his  voice  was  like  a  gong. 

"  He  was  a  bully  roller — 

Spares,  ten-strikes,fast  as  rain 

Came  from  his  hand — *  Boy !  set  'em  up !' 
And  down  they  went  again. 

"  A  horrid  scowl  was  on  his  face — 

His  teeth  he  grimly  set — 
He  grasped  his  ball,  and  roared,  '  By  G — ! 

I  can  do  better  yet  !J 

"  What  fearful  meaning  in  that  yell — 

I  never  heard  the  like — 
But  the  clock  it  struck  eleven, 

Jlnd  he  got  a  'leven  strike. 

"  Down  went  the  pins — up  flew  the  ball 

And  hit  me  on  the  head, 
And  quicker  than  greased  lightnin', 

My  covies,  I  was  dead. 


THE  'LEVEN  STRIKE.  73 

"  He  gloried  in  the  homicide ; — 

He  broke  into  a  roar, 
And  shouted  that  he'd  done  the  same 

Eleven  times  before. 

"  *  Ho  !  landlord  !  there's  a  flimsy — 

Come,  don't  be  cross  or  coy — 
Ten  dollars  for  your  alley 
And  ninety  for  your  boy  !J 

"  But  guilty  conscience  haunted  him, 

He  roamed  o'er  land  and  sea ; — 
Sometimes  he  was  in  Florida, 

Sometimes  in  Tennessee. 

"  And  never  from  that  moment 

Knew  he  an  hour  of  joy — 
Till  he  was  gouged  and  bit  to  death 

In  a  fight  in  Illinois. 

"  To  warn  the  bowlers  here  each  night 
With  spectral  strength  I've  striven — 

Be  satisfied  with  a  ten-strike, 
Nor  seek  to  get  eleven." 

He  ceased,  then  glided  backward, 

That  little  phantom  boy, 
With  his  wan  sepulchral  jacket 

And  tights  of  corduroy. 

The  twinkle  of  his  buttons 

Was  lost  in  wreaths  of  mist 
That  drifted  through  the  casement 

By  the  ghostly  moonbeams  kissed. 


74  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

The  OLD  'UN  told  the  story, 
But  few  believed  the  tale — 

Few  hearts  throbbed  faster  for  it, 
Few  lovely  cheeks  grew  pale. 

But  hie  you  to  the  alley — 

Ask  the  ten-pin  boys  there  met — 

They'll  tell  you  there  the  ghost  was  seen, 
There  you'll  find  spirits  yet. 

A.  D.  F. 


THE  "STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER." 

M.  BOCHSA,  the  Harpist,  is  a  wag.  At  the  concert 
on  Thursday  night,  at  the  Temple,  Mons.  B.  appeared 
before  the  audience  for  the  second  time  during  the  even 
ing's  performance,  for  the  purpose  of  playing  any  airs 
the  audience  might  select,  with  impromptu  embellish 
ments  and  variations.  M.  Bochsa  is  a  master  of  his 
instrument,  and  the  harp  in  his  hands  is  susceptible  of 
almost  anything,  in  reason — but  it  might  seem  a  question 
of  taste,  whether  martial  hymns  are  exactly  the  thing 
to  display  the  beauties  of  a  harp.  However,  we  are 
a  'democratic'  people,  and  Mons.  B.,  albeit  he  is  a 
wag,  understands  the  principle . 

"  You  will  plees  send  me  ze  tune  vot  I  sal  play" — 
proposed  Monsieur  to  his  audience,  as  he  came  upon  the 
platform. 

Half  a  dozen  strips  of  paper  immediately  found  their 
way  to  the  stand,  and  Monsieur  B.  read  them  aloud, 


THE    "STAR-SPANGLED   BANNER."  75 

"  <  O  Dolce  Concento,' — '  Yankee  Doodil' — (I  know 
him,  vera  veil.  I  play  him  one,  two,  tree — several 
time !)  — '  Groves  O'Blarney,'  — '  Yankee  Doo'  —  (I 
have  two  Yankee  Doodils,)  '  Non  piu  mesta,' —  Tres 
bien!" 

"  The  Star-Spangled  Banner !"  shouted  somebody 
in  the  crowd. 

"  Vot  you  sai  ?"  inquired  Bochsa. 

"  Star-Spangled  Banner  /" 

Monsieur  didn't  understand.  He  was  a  little  hard 
of  hearing.  He  stepped  quietly  down  from  the  ros 
trum,  and  approached  one  of  the  aisles. 

"  Ze  zhentilman  vil  plees  to  step  to  ze  front" — but 
the  stranger  declined. 

"  If  ze  zhentilman  cannot  come  to  me,  I  mus'  come 
to  him,"  continued  Monsieur. 

The  audience  took  '  the  cue' — and  a  roar  followed 
this  announcement,  pending  which  the  stranger  made 
his  appearance.  A  round  of  applause  greeted  him  as 
he  passed  to  the  foot  of  the  passage-way,  where  stood 
Monsieur  in  an  attitude  most  provokingly  grave,  wait 
ing  for  further  explanation. 

"  Vot  you  sai,  sair  ?" 

"  The  Star-Spangled  Banner,  I  want." 

"  Scar-tangle  bannair  ? — aha, — N*comprende,  mon 
sieur." 

"  Not  Scar-Strangled,  sir — Star-Spangled  Banner." 

"  Ze  Bannair — Oui — I  un'erstan' — Ze  flag  /" 

"  Yes,  yes— the  Flag  of  the  United  States." 

"  Yes,  sair  \  I  remember  him,  ver'  mooch.  Zat  is, 
I  do  not  recollec'  him,  zac'ly.  Monsieur,  you  know 
him?" 


76  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Why,  yes,  to  be  sure — everybody  knows  the  '  Star- 
Spangled  Banner.' ' 

"  Tres  bien,  monsieur !  Every  Yankee  zhentilman 
vissle.  You  sal  vissle  him  in  my  ear  /" 

Another  shout  went  up  from  the  audience,  but  the 
gentleman,  nothing  abashed,  placed  his  mouth  at  the 
side  of  Bochsa's  head,  and  commenced  whistling  the 
'  Star-Spangled  Banner'  most  philosophically,  amid  the 
convulsions  of  the  audience,  who  could  not  find  this 
scene  upon  the  bills  of  the  evening  ! 

"TRES  BIEN — Monsieur!"  shouted  Bochsa — "ele 
gant — superb  !  Monsieur,  you  von  ver'  fine  musician —  I 
sal  play  ze  Scar-Tangled  Bannair,  vis  mooch  plaisur !" 
— and  mounting  the  platform,  he  commenced  with  a 
grand  introduction  to  the  several  themas  proposed, 
which  was  followed  by  some  highly  finished  and  ex 
quisitely  performed  variations  upon  the  melodies  sent 
up,  not  forgetting  the  two  '  Yankee  Doodils' — always 
so  certain  a  favourite. 

On  a  sudden — a  crash  of  harmony  leaped  from  the 
harp-strings,  which  took  the  audience  by  surprise !  An 
instant's  rest  followed — when  our  own  beautiful  nation 
al  air,  the  '  Star-Spangled  Banner,'  was  produced  with 
a  most  brilliant  accompaniment,  which  '  brought  down 
the  house.' 

Bochsa  was  satisfied — his  friend  was  satisfied — the 
audience  were  satisfied — and  the  splendid  Harpist  left 
the  stage  (with  a  quiet  smirk  at  the  corner  of  his 
mouth)  amid  a  perfect  storm  of  applause  ! 

G.  P.  B. 


A  STEER  RIDE. 

MOVING  down  Washington  street  the  other  day  with 
a  friend,  the  sight  of  the  flying  sleighs  reminded  him  of 
a  juvenile  adventure  of  his  own  when  he  was  a  younker 
long  time  ago,  and  Gilmanton,  N.  H.,  was  blessed  with 
his  presence.  Happening  to  call  on  a  crony  of  his,  a 
farmer's  son,  one  afternoon,  the  gentleman  who,  the 
hymn-book  tells  us, 

"Finds  some  mischief  still, 
For  idle  hands  to  do," 

suggested  to  them  the  idea  of  having  a  ride  in  the  ( go- 
to-meetin' '  sleigh,  with  an  unbroken  steer  of  the  farm 
er's  for  a  team.  Our  friend  with  some  difficulty 
persuaded  his  acquaintance  to  enter  into  the  scheme,  but 
when  his  scruples  were  once  overcome,  he  *  went  it 
with  a  vindictive  rush.'  The  boys  secretly  got  out  the 
sleigh  and  '  toted'  it  through  the  snow  for  a  distance 
of  two  miles,  where  they  left  it.  The  snow  was  deep — 
over  the  fence-rails  in  some  places,  and  the  preliminary 
achievement  cost  them  no  little  labour.  This  done,  they 
went  back  for  the  animal.  The  *  critter'  was  found 
quietly  consuming  clover  in  an  out-house,  and  not  in 
the  happiest  humour  at  being  disturbed.  In  fact  he 
was  'mighty  handy  with  his  horns,'  as  an  Irishman 
would  say,  and  had  a  most '  fatal  facility'  for  butting. 
However,  his  tormentors  took  him,  one  on  each  side, 


78 


STRAY    SUBJECTS. 


grasped  him  by  the  horns,  and  persuaded  him  along  by 
means  of  an  ox-goad.  Now  and  then  he  would  make  a 
stand  and  struggle  fiercely.  But  they  hung  on  to  him, 
Mike  Mortality  to  a  deceased  African,'  as  my  friend 
expressed  it,  determined  not  to  give  out.  It  took  them 
two  hours  to  get  the  steer  up  to  the  sleigh.  There 
another  battle  royal  ensued  when  it  came  to  putting  him 
in  the  fills.  Talk  about  taming  Bucephalus !  Pooh  ! 
that  was  nothing  to  harnessing  an  angry  steer  to  a 
single  sleigh.  He  did  not  take  it  kindly  at  all — but  he 
had  to  take  it.  The  youthful  muscle  and  youthful 
ingenuity  of  a  pair  of  human  torments  overcame  the 
brute  rage  and  blind  strength  of  the  animal.  At  last 
they  noosed  him  and  indulged  in  an  Indian  yell  of 
triumph !  Off  went  the  liberated  brute,  howling  with 
rage.  Talk  of  a  locomotive  at  full  speed,  pshaw  !  That 
is  a  tortoise  to  a  mad  steer.  The  '  critter'  took  a  bee 
line  for  home.  The  snow  flew  like  the  spray  from 
Niagara.  The  boys  were  pelted  with  ice-balls  from  his 
flying  hoofs.  The  icicles  showered  from  the  limbs  of 
the  apple  trees,  as  they  dashed  through  an  orchard. 
Two  pannels  of  fence-rails  went  into  '  tarnal  smash'  as 
they  took  the  outside  of  the  track  in  a  narrow  cart-path. 
One  side  of  the  sleigh  was  left  in  a  dung-heap.  Nothing 
but  the  dasher  held  on  as  they  went  through  the  last 
pair  of  bars,  and  the  steer  dashed  his  head  against  the 
barn-door,  and  rolled  over,  dead  beat,  in  a  snow  heap. 
Our  friend  jumped  off  the  runners  and  made  tracks  for 
his  home,  just  as  the  farmer,  rushing  out  of  the  house, 
whip  in  hand,  cornered  his  precocious  boy  as  he  was 
rising  from  the  wreck,  and  gave  him,  as  the  sufferer 


THE   WOLVERINE   AND    THE   LEAD   MINE.  79 

averred  next  day,  the    '  onremittenist  lickin'  that  was 
ever  larruped  onto  him  since  he  was  a  human  bein'." 

Our  friend  has  often  been  a  sleighing  since,  with 
splendid  teams  and  pretty  girls,  and  glorious  music  and 
moonlight  nights,  but  he  declares  upon  his  honour,  that 
not  all  of  these  can  equal  half  the  excitement  of  a  sleigh- 
ride  across  the  country  with  a  mad  steer  in  the  fills. 

F.  A.  D. 


HOW  THE  WOLVERINE  DISCOVERED  THE 
LEAD  MINE.-A  FACT. 

I  WAS  a  '  young*  man  ten  years  ago — and  (like  some 
other  young  men  I  wot  of,  who  did  the  same  thing,  and 
returned  lighter  than  they  went !)  I  drifted  out  West. 
My  locale  for  the  tune  being  was  in  the  easterly  part 
of  Michigan,  but  I  once  ventured  westward  as  far  as 
Wisconsin. 

There  is  a  swarm  of '  suckers,'  '  hoosiers,'  '  buckeyes,' 
'  corn-crackers,'  and  *  wolverines,'  eternally  on  the  qui 
vive,  hi  those  parts — a  migratory  race  of  bipeds — who 
float  about  from  spot  to  spot, '  squatting,'  for  the  nonce, 
wherever  their  fancy  or  interest  may  incline  them  ;  and 
a  rougher  set  of  men  will  rarely  be  met  with,  saving 
the  genuine  '  voyageurs,'  or  '  trappers' — so  notorious 
for  their  hardihood. 

A  *  green'  looking  individual  turned  up  suddenly  one 
morning  in  the  vicinity  of  a  backwoods  mining  settle 
ment,  and,  according  to  his  own  account,  he  had  come 
from  a  *  desperate  ways  off'  in  search  of  'sunthin  to  du.' 


80  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

A  linsey-wolsey  jacket,  considerably  the  worse  for 
wear,  was  slung  over  his  shoulder ;  his  pants  were  made 
of  tow-cloth  ;  a  pair  of  coarse  cow-hide  brogans  orna 
mented  his  feet,  and  the  gear  which  protected  (?)  his 
head  might  have  answered  an  excellent  turn  to  sift  ashes 
through;  in  brief,  his  tout  ensemble  looked  very  like 
the  '  breaking  up  of  a  hard  winter.' 

He  sauntered  leisurely  up  to  a  knot  of  workmen,  and 
drawing  from  his  side-pocket  a  huge  soft  cracker,  he 
commenced  munching  it — solus. 

"  'Mornin',  stranger,"  said  one  of  the  hands,  at 
length. 

"  Mornin'  yourself,  cap'n." 

"  Which  way  ?" 

"  None  in  partic'lar." 

"  Well,  stranger,  where  do  you  hail  from  ?" 

"  Wai 1  hails  from  all  raound  the  lot." 

"  From  the  East'ard  ?" 

"  Wai — yes 1  reckon." 

"What  news?" 

"  None — as  I  knows  on." 

"  You're  short, — kinder." 

"  Wai ;  you'll  find  me  long  enough — jarehaps." 

The  conversation  was  suspended ;  the  wolverine  con 
tinued  to  munch  his  biscuit,  and  the  miners  pursued 
their  labours.  But  the  biscuit  finally  disappeared,  and 
the  stranger,  who  had  taken  considerable  interest  in 
their  operations,  had  approached  writhin  speaking  dis 
tance  again. 

"  Wai ;  they  du  say  the  Bank's  busted ." 

"What  bank?"  bawled  an  operative,  dropping  his 
spade  and  looking  about  him  for  a  land-slide ! 


THE   WOLVERINE   AND    THE    LEAD    MINE.  81 

« 'Nited  States  Bank." 

"  O !  is  that  all  ?   Why,  how  you  skeert  a  feller !" 

"  Some  of  'em  will  get  skeered,  wus  en  that,  I  reck- 
'n,  afore  they're  through  with  it." 

Again  the  talk  ceased.  The  wolverine  watched  the 
progress  of  the  workmen,  and  finally  laid  his  jacket 
upon  the  bank. 

"  S'pose  you  don't  want  another  hand" 

"No." 

"  No ;  I  thought  not." 

Here  one  of  the  party,  in  a  green  roundabout,  who 
imagined  himself  considerably  more  than  a  match  for 
half  a  score  like  the  green  'un — and  who  appeared  like 
overseer  of  the  gang — proposed  to  him  that  he  should 
pay  scot  for  the  crowd,  and  he  would  then  show  him 
where  he  could  set  up  the  '  diggin'  trade'  on  his  own 
account ! 

"  Done,"  said  the  wolverine. 

"  Drinks  all  around — mind." 

"  Sartin.  Jest  fetch  on  your  '  prary  dew'  foi  the 
hull  lot,  and  d the  expense." 

A  capacious  caddy  of  the  crature  was  procured,  and 
the  party  had  a  jolly  time  at  the  cost  of  the  new  comer. 
The  liquor  disposed  of,  he  asked  the  direction  to  the  site 
where  he  should  commence  operations. 

"  Well,  stranger,"  said  the  knowing  one,  with  a  side 
wink  to  his  men,  "  begin  any  whar ;  try  under  the  old 
tree  yonder." 

"  The  big  shady  tree,  across  the  lot,  there  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Thank  ye.     It  looks  like  a  right  smart  spot." 


82  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"Hope  you'll  have  a  good  time  of  it,"  added  the 
overseer,  and  the  parties  separated. 

The  wolverine  went  at  it  in  right  good  earnest,  with 
a  borrowed  'pick,'  and  long  before  sunset  (as  luck 
would  have  it)  he  *  struck  a  Lead  /'  Having  satisfied 
himself  in  reference  to  the  location,  he  covered  up  hi? 
tracks,  and  returned  to  the  lead  mine. 

"  Say,  cap'n ;  you're  rayther  hard  on  a  poor  feller." 

"Eh!  What  luck,  stranger?" 

"  Luck,  you  said !  Wai,  I  dont  know  what  you  call 
luck.  I've  been  sweatin'  over  thar,  about  ten  hours ; 
a  hull  day  lost  smack  ;  and  not  a  red  cent  made  yet." 

"  Oh,  try  again,"  said  the  sharp  'un  ;   "  you'll  rfo." 

"  Wai,  may  be  so,  and  may  be  not.  Whar's  the 
owner  o'  that  are  patch  ?" 

"  /  own  this  land,  all  about." 

"  Maybe  you  wouldn't  like  to  sell  that  are  lot  ?" 

"  But  I  should,  though." 

"  Wot'll  you  take  for  that  lot  ?" 

"  Oh,  you  may  have  it  at  Government  price ;  there's 
eighty  acres." 

"  I'll  take  that  lot,  Mr.  Wot-you-call-em." 

"You  will?" 

"  Yes,  Mister  ;  and  yere's  yer  'putty  /' ' 

As  our  wolverine  pronounced  this  last  sentence,  he 
drew  forth  a  ragged  bandana,  in  one  corner  of  which 
was  stowed  away  a  goodly  quantum  of  the  '  shiners.' 
The  hundred  dollars  was  soon  told  out ;  the  parties  im 
mediately  repaired  to  the  Land  Office,  where  Squire  P. 
made  the  deed  of  transfer,  and  the  document  was  placed 
in  the  stranger's  hands. 

On  his  way  back,  he  passed  a  crowd  of  the  miners, 


A    YANKEE    ADMINISTRATOR.  8d 

who  had  done  laughing,  and  shortly  afterwards  he  was 
out  of  sight.  Next  morning,  bright  and  early,  the  wol 
verine  was  at  work  under  that  tree,  with  two  assist 
ants  ;  and  by  noontime  a  very  showy  vein  of  ore  had 
come  to  light,  within  a  few  feet  of  the  ground's  surface. 
The  stranger  laughed  then ! — the  miners  grinned,  and 
the  lucky  buyer  disappeared,  again. 

Four  weeks  afterwards,  a  countryman  in  plain  home 
spun,  accompanied  by  a  '  gentleman  in  black,'  visited 
the  spot;  and  they,  too,  went  to  Squire  P.'s  of 
fice.  Another  transfer  was  made,  and  the  awkward 
wolverine,  of  the  tattered  breeches  and  torn  hat,  left  his 
purchase  in  other  hands,  with  a  bonus  of  five  thousand 
dollars  in  his  pocket ! 

The  last  I  saw  of  the  rough  stranger,  he  was  inqui 
ring  of  the  overseer  in  the  green  roundabout,  whether 
he  had  for  sale  "  any  more  left  of  the  same  sort  /" 

G.  P.  B. 


A  YANKEE  ADMINISTRATOR. 

A  FRIEND  of  ours  related,  the  other  day,  an  anecdote, 
for  the  authenticity  of  which  he  positively  vouched.  It 
relates  to  a  very  shrewd  Yankee  of  the  Sam  Slick  school, 
who  formerly  kept  a  slop-shop  in  the  classic  purlieus  of 
Ann  street,  and  drove  a  snug  and  thriving  business, 
contriving,  by  constant  attention  to  trade,  and  strict 
adherence  to  the  cash  principle,  to  do  something  more 
than  make  both  ends  meet  in  the  course  of  the  year. 


84  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

He  boasted  that  he  "  was  never  tuck  in  but  once,  and 
then  he  came  out  of  it  fust-rate."  The  only  exception 
he  made  to  his  cash  principle  was  in  favour  of  a  very 
dark-coloured  gentleman  who  'follered  the  sea  for  a 
livinY  and  who  happened  to  be  in  want  of  a  professional 
blue  jacket  adorned  with  an  unusual  quantity  of  black 
glass  buttons,  value  two  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  The 
sable  mariner  stated  that  he  had  just  got  into  port,  should 
be  paid  off  next  day,  and  would  then  infallibly  '  call 
and  settle.'  The  Yankee  let  him  have  the  jacket,  and 
charged  him  with  the  amount.  The  next  day  came, 
and  the  next,  and  the  next,  and  brought  no  coloured 
gentleman.  The  Yankee  clothes-dealer  began  to  feel 
uneasy.  To  be  taken  in  the  first  time  he  'trusted,' 
was  an  event  never  anticipated  in  his  calculation  of  the 
chances.  He  made  inquiries,  and  found  that  he  had 
been  '  regularly  taken  in  and  done  for.'  Instead  of 
his  customer  having  just  arrived  hi  port,  he  had  sailed 
on  a  nine-months'  voyage  the  day  after  he  had  obtained 
'  tick,'  or,  as  Varnish  says,  in  the  new  comedy,  (  ac 
commodation.'  In  a  desperate  rage,  the  Yankee  took 
'  account  of  stock,'  and  marked  up  all  the  blue  jackets 
with  glass  buttons  at  25  per  cent,  advance. 

From  that  time  the  Yankee  was  a  constant  reader  of 
the  daily  journals,  confining  his  attention,  however, 
principally  to  the  '  Marine  Intelligence'  and  '  Shipping 
List.'  Not  a  storm  rippled  the  face  of  the  ocean  but 
roused  the  attention  of  our  shop-keeper.  Not  a  ship 
was  spoken  at  sea,  but  he  learned  her  name  as  soon  as 
possible.  At  length  the  signal-gun  of  the  'Venus' 
(that  was  the  name  of  the  delinquent  African's  craft) 
announced  her  arrival  from  Canton  in  the  lower  harbour, 


A   YANKEE   ADMINISTRATOR.  85 

and  the  flag  on  the  telegraph  station  at  Central  wharf 
speedily  confirmed  the  news.  Our  Yankee  was  on  the 
qui  vive.  He  hastened  to  the  owners,  to  serve  a  trustee 
process  to  secure  his  debt,  and  there  learned,  with  blank 
dismay,  that  his  sable  debtor  had  died  of  the  small  pox 
directly  on  the  arrival  of  the  ship,  and  was  buried,  with 
his  chest  of  clothes,  on  Hospital  Island.  No  money 
could  be  paid  on  his  account  except  to  a  legally-em 
powered  administrator.  After  cogitating  awhile,  the 
Yankee  repaired  to  the  Judge  of  Probate  for  the  County 
of  Suffolk,  and  applied  for  letters  of  administration. 
After  the  due  publication  of  official  notice,  no  heir  or 
creditor  appearing,  the  Yankee  was  duly  authorized  to 
receive  payment  of  moneys  due  to  the  deceased.  The 
pretty  sum  of  108  dollars  was  accordingly  paid  over  to 
him.  Two  or  three  years  passed  on,  no  claimant  ap 
peared,  and  the  tailor  rejoiced  exceedingly  in  the  bril 
liant  upshot  of  the  speculation. 

One  day,  however,  as  he  was  sitting  at  his  window, 
calmly  smoking  a  '  long  nine,'  and  ruminating  on  some 
other  'speculation,'  whom  should  he  see,  walking 
quietly  along  on  the  opposite  side-walk,  but  the  identical 
coloured  gentleman  who  had  negotiated  with  him  three 
years  before,  arrayed  in  the  identical  blue  jacket,  orna 
mented  with  countless  black  glass  buttons,  but  very 
much  the  worse  for  wear.  At  first  he  was  '  taken  all 
aback,'  much  as  Macbeth  was  at  the  unwelcome  appa 
rition  of  the  f  blood-boltered'  Banquo  at  the  festive 
board.  A  few  moments'  reflection,  however,  reassured 
him,  and,  springing  over  the  counter,  he  rushed  forth 
into  the  street.  At  this  moment  the  negro  raised  his 
eyes  and  beheld  the  well-remembered  sign,  and  with  it 


OO  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

flashed  back  on  his  mind  a  startling  reminiscence  of  his 
own  indebtedness.  He  also  recognised  the  injured 
Yankee.  His  face  became  mottled  with  terror.  He 
turned  and  fled.  "  Stop  thief!"  shouted  the  Yankee,  as 
he  dashed  after  him  in  hot  pursuit.  "  Stop  thief!"  re 
peated  the  crowd.  It  was  an  exciting  chase.  Up  flew 
windows,  and  out  flew  heads.  Cellars  subterranean 
disgorged  their  motley  living  tenants.  Sailors,  steva- 
dores,  dogs,  boys,  girls,  and  even  women,  rushed  along, 
stimulated  by  the  eager  cries  of  the  Yankee.  Far  in 
the  van,  however,  fled  the  panting  negro,  like  a  dark 
shadow,  distancing  pursuit.  "  If  I  only  had  a  catched 
him,"  said  the  tailor  to  his  foreman  as  he  re-entered  his 
low-browed  shop,  "  I'd  a  made  him  pay  me  that  two 
dollars  and  fifty  cents,  with  interest  to  date." 

The  key  to  the  apparition  was  afterwards  discovered. 
It  seems  that  the  negro,  on  reaching  his  destined  port, 
had  run  away,  and  another  hand  (also  coloured)  had 
been  shipped  in  his  stead,  the  name,  however,  remaining 
unaltered  on  the  ship's  books.  The  second  coloured 
gentleman  it  was,  who,  on  his  arrival  in  port,  paid  the 
debt  of  nature,  and  also  more  than  paid,  by  his  wages, 
the  debt  incurred  by  his  predecessor  in  the  forecastle  of 
the  '  Venus.' 

Although  the  Yankee,  to  use  his  own  language, "  came 
out  of  that  'ere  spec  fust-rate,"  yet,  to  his  dying  day, 
he  never  ceased  to  lament  that  "  he  hadn't  cotched  that 
'ere  nigger,  and  made  him  face  that  $2.50,  with  interest 
to  date." 

F.  A.  D. 


THE  STEAMBOAT  CAPTAIN  WHO  WAS 
AVERSE  TO  RACING. 

EARLY  in  the  spring  of  the  present  year,  a  magnifi 
cent  new  steamer  was  launched  upon  the  Ohio  River, 
and  shortly  afterward  made  her  appearance  at  the  Le 
vee,  opposite  the  flourishing  city  of  Cincinnati.  Gilt- 
edged  covers,  enveloping  the  captain's  '  respects, ' 
accompanied  with  invitations  to  '  see  her  through,'  upon 
her  first  trip  down  the  river,  being  forwarded  to  the  edi 
torial  corps  in  that  vicinity ;  the  chalked  hats  were 
'  numerous'  on  the  occasion.  It  was  a  grand  affair, 
this  debut  of  a  floating  palace,  which  has  since  main 
tained  her  repute  untarnished  as  the  '  crack  boat,'  par 
excellence,  upon  the  Western  waters.  Your  humble  ser 
vant  was  among  the  '  invited  guests' — and  a  nice  time 
he  had  of  it ! 

I  found  myself  on  board  this  beautiful  craft  in  '  close 
communion'  with  a  score  of  unquestionable  '  beauties.' 
The  company  proved  to  be  a  heterogenous  conglome 
ration  of  character — made  up  of  editors,  lawyers,  auc 
tioneers,  indescribables,  and  *  fancies' — with  a  sprink 
ling  of  '  none-such's'  There  was  a  stray  parson,  too, 
in  the  crowd — but  as  his  leisure  time '  between  meetins' 
was  spent  in  trading  horses,  we  dispensed  with  his 
'  grace  before  meals.' 

We  left  our  moorings  an  hour  before  sunset,  upon  a 
clear  cold  afternoon,  and  passed  rapidly  down  stream 


88  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

for  a  considerable  distance,  without  experiencing  any 
out-of-the-way  occurrence.  The  '  sons  of  temperance,' 
and  the  parson  aforesaid,  amused  themselves  over  a 
smoking  whiskey  toddy — the  *  boys'  were  relieving 
each  other  of  their  superfluous  dimes  and  quarters  at 
euchre,  when  a  tall  gentleman,  who  was  *  some,'  (when 
he  was  sober,)  stepped  suddenly  into  the  cabin,  and 
imparted  the  information  that  a  well-known  '  fast  boat' 
had  just  hove  in  sight,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kentucky 
river.  The  cards  were  '  dropt'  instanter — the  punches 
disappeared — and  the  'mourners'  were  soon  distrib 
uted  hi  knots  upon  the  promenade  deck,  to  watch  the 
progress  of  events. 

Our  'bully'  boat  sped  away  like  a  bird,  however, 
and  the  craft  behind  gave  us  early  evidence  that  she 
should  offer  no  child's  play.  The  'fat  was  in  the 
fire'  at  once — a  huge  column  of  black  smoke  curled 
up  in  the  clear  atmosphere — an  extra  turn  or  two  was 
visible  upon  our  own  boat,  and  away  we  went !  A 
good  deal  of  excitement  existed  among  the  party,  as 
the  rival  steamer  was  clearly  gaining  upon  us.  A  craft 
like  ours,  with  such  a  company,  and  such  a  captain, 
mustn't  be  beaten. 

As  the  boat  behind  us  fell  in  under  our  stern,  and  we 
could  '  count  her  passengers,'  a  sort  of  impression 
came  over  us,  that,  by  some  mistake,  we  had  got  upon 
the  wrong  boat !  At  least,  such  was  the  expressed 
opinion  of  the  parson,  as  he  threatened  to  '  go  down 
stairs'  and  take  another  drink.  Our  captain  was  a 
noble  fellow — he  paced  the  deck  quietly,  with  a  con 
stant  eye  to  wind'ard ;  but  he  said  nothing.  A  bevy 
of  the  mourners  stepped  up  to  him,  with 


THE   CAPTAIN   WHO   WAS   AVERSE  TO  RACING.         89 

"  What  speed,  cap'n  ?" 

"  Fair,  gentlemen ;  I  may  say  very  fair." 

"  Smart  craft,  that,  behind,"  ventured  one. 

"  Very,"  responded  the  captain,  calmly,  as  he  placed 
his  hand  upon  a  small  brass  knob  at  the  back  of  the 
pilot  house.  This  movement  was  responded  to  by  the 
faint  jingling  of  a  bell  below,  followed  immediately  by 
a  rush  of  cinders  from  the  smoke-pipes,  and  an  im 
proved  action  of  the  paddles. 

"  Now  we  move  again." 

"  Some,"  was  the  response,  and  a  momentary  tremor 
pervaded  the  boat  as  she  '  slid  along'  right  smartly. 

But  the  craft  in  our  rear  moved  like  our  shadow  on 
the  calm  waters,  and  as  we  shot  down  the  river,  it 
seemed  as  if  we  had  her  '  in  tow,'  so  calmly  and  uni 
formly  did  she  follow  in  our  wake.  The  excitement  of 
the  congregation  upon  deck  had  by  this  time  become 
intense,  and  it  was  pretty  plain  that  the  boats  must 
shortly  part  company,  or  '  split  something !'  The  ras 
cal  behind  us  took  advantage  of  a  turn  in  the  channel, 
and  '  helm  a-starboard !'  was  clearly  heard  from  the 
look-out  of  our  rival,  as  she  '  hove  off,'  and  suddenly 
fell  alongside  us  !  The  parson  went  below  at  once,  to 
put  his  threat  into  execution,  as  we  came  up  into  the 
current  again,  '  neck  and  neck  ;'  and  when  he  returned 
we  were  running  a  twenty-five-knot  lick,  the  steam 
smack  on  to  49°  ! 

"  She's  going — goin',  go ,"  muttered  an  auction 
eer  to  himself. 

"  A  perfect  nonsuit,"  remarked  a  lawyer. 

"  Beaten  but  not  vanquished,"  added  a  politician ; 
and  away  we  scudded  side  by  side  for  half  a  mile. 

F 


90  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Wouldn't  she  bear  a  leetle  more  ?"  meekly  asked 
the  parson. 

"She's  doing  very  well,"  replied  the  captain. 
"Don't  get  excited,  gentlemen ;  my  boat  is  a  new 
one — her  reputation  and  mine  is  at  stake.  We  mustn't 
rush  her — racing  always  injures  a  boat,  and  I  am  averse 
to  it;"  saying  which  he  applied  his  thumb  and  finger 
to  the  brass  knob  again — the  bell  tinkled  in  the  dis 
tance — and  our  rival  pilot  shortly  had  an  opportunity  to 
examine  the  architecture  of  our  rudder-post ! 

I  was  acquainted  with  the  engineer.  I  stepped 
below  (believing  we  should  be  beaten  at  our  present 
speed),  and  entering  the  engine-room — 

"  Tim,"  said  I,  "  we'll  be  licked — give  her  another 
turn,  eh  ?" 

"  I  rayther  think  she  moves  some  as  it  is,"  said  Tim. 

"  Yes :  but  the  C is  hard  on  us — give  her  a  little, 

my  boy — just  for " 

"  Step  in  here  a  moment,"  remarked  Tim ;  "  it's  all 
t  mum,'  you  know — nothing  to  be  said,  eh  ?  Quiet — 
there  ! — don't  she  tremble  some?" 

I  noticed,  for  the  first  time,  that  our  boat  did  labour 
prodigiously  ! 

"  But  come  round  here"  continued  Tim ;  "  look 
there  ! — mum's  the  word,  you  know." 

I  stepped  out  of  that  engine-room  (Tim  said  after 
wards,  that  I  "  sprang  out  at  one  bound ;"  but  he  lied !) 
in  a  hurry.  The  solder  upon  the  connexion-pipe  had 
melted  and  run  down  over  the  seams  in  a  dozen  places, 
from  the  excessive  heat — a  crowbar  was  braced  athwart 
the  safety-valve,  with  a  '  fifty-six'  upon  one  end — and 
we  were  shooting  down  the  Ohio,  under  a  head  of  steam 
*  chock  up'  to  54  40 ! ! 


"I  stepped  out  of  that  engine-room  (Tim  said  afterward*,  that  I  '  sprang  out  al 
one  bound;'  but  he  lied!)  in  a  hurry." — Page  90. 


THE   CAPTAIN    WHO    WAS   AVERSE   TO   RACING.         91 

My  'sleeping  apartment'  was  well  aft.  I  entered 
the  state-room — got  over  upon  the  back  side  of  my 
berth — and,  stuffing  the  corners  of  the  pillow  into  my 
ears,  endeavoured  to  compose  myself  in  sleep.  It  was 
out  of  the  question.  In  attempting  to  '  right  myself,' 
I  discovered  that  my  hair  stuck  out  so  straight,  it  was 
impossible  for  me  to  get  my  head  within  six  inches  of 
the  pillow  ! 

I  tossed  about  till  daylight,  in  momentary  expectation 
of  being  landed  in  Kentucky,  (or  somewhere  else  !)  but 
we  got  on  finely.  We  led  our  rival  half  an  hour  into 
Louisville  ;  and  I  immediately  swore  upon  my  nightcap 
that  I  would  never  accept  another  invitation,  for  a  plea 
sure  trip,  from  a  steamboat  Captain  who  was  averse  to 
racing  ! 


A  WINDFALL  FOR  THE  *  YOUNG  'UN.' 


ORIGINAL  CORRESPONDENCE. 


[To  appreciate  the  following  correspondence,  it  may  be  necessary 
to  know  that  some  seven  years  since  a  person  by  the  name  of  BURN- 
HAM  died  in  London  without  a  will,  leaving  an  immense  property 
behind  him — estimated  at  some  millions  sterling  in  value.  The 
news  reached  this  country,  and  the  Burnhams  were,  consequently, 
in  high  feather  in  reference  to  their  prospect !  An  agent  was  chosen 
to  look  after  the  property  in  Europe,  the  story  went  the  rounds  of 
the  press,  and  a  variety  of  genealogies  and  pedigrees  were  forwarded 
to  London.  It  all  ended  in  smoke,  however ;  no  satisfactory  legal 
proof  having  been  found  that  the  Burnham  in  England  ever  '  be 
longed'  to  anybody  this  side  the  water.  A  few  days  ago  an  eminent 
legal  gentleman  of  this  city,  (who  has  been  engaged  by  some  of  the 
parties  interested  to  ferret  the  matter  out,)  addressed  letters  again 
to  all  the  supposed  heirs ;  thus  renewing  the  old  story  about  the 
*  Burnham  fortune.'  Our  '  Young  'Un5  received  a  copy  of  this 
communication,  which  we  annex,  with  his  reply. — Ed.  'Spirit  of 
the  Times.3] 

(COPY.) 

.NEW  YORK,  Nov.  4,  1846. 

Dear  Sir — I  am  desirous  of  ascertaining  whether 
you  are  in  any  wise  related  to  Mr.  John  G.  Burnham 
(of  England),  who  was  lost  at  sea,  some  fifty  or  sixty 
years  ago  ?  or  are  you  of  the  family  of  Orrin  Burnham, 
an  Englishman,  who  came  to  this  country  somewhere 
from  1785  to  1787  ?  Be  good  enough  at  your  earliest 
leisure  to  inform  me,  if  you  are  so  connected — and  at 
the  same  time  send  me  the  names  and  residences  of  your 


A  WINDFALL   FOR   THE   <  YOUNG    'tlN.'  93 

father,  grandfather,  and  uncles,  on  the  father's  side.  A 
large  landed  property  (some  three  millions  sterling  in 
value)  has  been  left  by  a  descendant  of  the  Burnham 
family  in  England,  and  it  may  be  of  material  pecuniary 
advantage  to  you  to  establish  your  pedigree.  Let  me 
hear  from  you  as  soon  as  convenient. 

Very  resp'y,  your  obed't  serv't, 

*****  *********,  Att'y  for  the  Heirs. 

To  GEO.  P.  BURNHAM,  Esq.,  Fran&lin  House,  Philadelphia. 

(REPLY.) 

Hon.  •*»••  ••••••«•,  New  York. 

FRANKLIN  HOUSE,  PHILADELPHIA,  Nov.  10,  1846. 

My  Dear  Sir — Your  favour,  under  date  4th  inst., 
came  duly  to  hand,  and  I  improve  my  earliest  moment 
of  leisure  (after  the  unavoidable  delays  attendant  upon 
procuring  the  information  you  seek)  to  reply.  You  are 
desirous  of  being  made  acquainted  with  my  '  pedigree.' 

I  have  to  inform  you  that  I  have  taken  some  days  to 
examine  into  the  matter,  and,  after  a  careful  investiga 
tion  of  the  '  records,'  find  that  I  am  a  descendant,  in 
the  direct  line,  from  a  gentleman  very  well  remembered 
in  these  parts — by  the  name  of  ADAM.  The  old  man 
had  two  sons ;  '  Cain'  and  '  Abel'  they  were  called. 
The  latter,  by  the  other's  hands,  went  dead  one  day ; 
but  as  no  coroner  had  then  been  appointed  in  the  county 
where  they  resided,  '  verdict  was  postponed.'  A  third 
son  was  born,  whom  they  called  '  Seth.'  Cain  Adam 
had  a  son  named  Enoch — who  had  a  son  (in  the  fourth 
generation)  by  the  name  of  Malech.  Malech  had  a  son 


94  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

whom  he  called  NOAH,  from  whom  I  trace,  directly,  my 
own  being. 

NOAH  had  three  sons — '  Shem,'  *  Ham,'  and  c  Japhet.' 
The  eldest  and  youngest — Shem  and  Japhet — were  a 
couple  of  the  '  b'hoys' — and  Ham  was  a  very  well  dis 
posed  young  gentleman,  who  slept  at  home  o'nights. 
But  his  two  brothers,  unfortunately,  were  not  so  well 
inclined.  Ham  was  a  sort  of  '  jethro' — the  butt  of  his 
two  brothers — who  had  done  him  '  brown'  so  many  times 
that  they  called  him  '  burnt.'  For  many  years  he  was 
known,  therefore,  as  '  Burnt-Ham.'  Before  his  death  he 
applied  to  the  Legislature  in  his  diggin's  for  a  change  of 
name.  He  dropped  the  t — a  bill  was  passed  entitling 
him  to  the  name  of  BURN-HAM — and  hence  the  sur 
name  of  your  humble  servant.  So  much  for  the  name. 

In  several  of  the  newspapers  of  that  period  I  find  al 
lusions  made  to  a  very  severe  rain-storm  which  occurred 
'  just  about  this  time' — and  the  public  prints  (of  all  par 
ties)  agree  that  "  the  storm  was  tremendous,"  and  that 
"  an  immense  amount  of  damage  was  done  to  the  shipping 
and  commercial  interest."  As  this  took  place  some  six 
thousand  years  back,  you  will  not,  I  presume,  expect 
me  to  quote  the  particular  details  of  this  circumstance — 
except  in  so  far  as  refers  directly  to  my  own  relatives. 
I  may  here  add,  however,  that  subsequent  accounts  in 
form  me  that  everything  of  any  particular  value  was 
totally  destroyed.  A  private  letter  from  Ham,  dated  at 
the  time,  declares  that  "  there  wasn't  a  peg  left  to  hang 
his  hat  on !" 

Old  NOAH  found  it  was  '  gittin'  werry  wet  under 
foot  (to  use  a  familiar  expression  of  his,)  and  he  wisely 
built  a  canal-boat  (of  very  generous  dimensions)  for  the 


A   WINDFALL   FOR   THE    'YOUNG   'UN.1  95 

safety  of  himself  and  family.  Finding  that  the  rain 
continued,  he  enlarged  his  boat,  so  that  he  could  carry 
a  very  considerable  amount  of  luggage  in  case  of  acci 
dent.  This  foresight  in  the  old  gentleman  proved  most 
fortunate,  and  only  confirms  the  established  opinion, 
that  the  family  is  '  smart' — for  the  "  storm  continued  un 
abated  for  forty  days  and  forty  nights,"  (so  say  the 
accounts,)  until  every  species  of  animal  and  vegetable 
matter  had  been  '  used  up' — always  excepting  the  old 
gentleman's  canal-boat  and  cargo !  Now,  Noah  was  a 
great  lover  of  animals — he  was  !  "  Of  every  kind,  a 
male  and  female"  did  he  take  into  his  boat  with  him,  and 
*  a  nice  time'  they  must  have  had  of  it  for  six  weeks ! 
Notwithstanding  the  fact  (which  I  find  recorded  in  one 
of  the  journals  of  the  day)  that  "  a  gentlemen  who  was 
swimming  about,  and  who  requested  the  old  man  to  let 
him  in,  upon  being  refused,  declared  that  he  might  go  to 
grass  with  his  old  canoe,  for  he  didn't  think  it  would 
be  much  of  a  shower,  anyhow !"  I  say,  notwithstanding 
this  opinion  of  the  gentleman,  who  is  represented  as 
having  been  a  '  very  expert  swimmer,'  everything  was 
destroyed. 

HAM  was  one  of  'em — he  was  !  He  '  knew  sufficient 
to  get  out  of  the  rain,'  albeit  he  wasn't  thought 
very  witty  !  He  took  passage  with  the  rest,  however, 
and  thus  did  away  with  the  necessity  of  a  life-preserver. 
From  Ham  I  trace  my  pedigree  directly  down,  through 
all  the  grades,  to  King  Solomon,  without  any  difficulty 
— who,  by  the  way,  was  reported  to  have  been  a  little 
loose  in  his  habits,  and  was  very  fond  of  the  ladies  and 
Manzanilla  Sherry.  He  used  to  sing  songs,  too — of 
which  '  the  least  said  the  soonest  mended.'  But  on  the 


96  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

whole,  Sol  was  a  very  clever,  jolly-good  fellow,  and  ,« 
several  occasions  gave  evidence  of  possessing  his  shart,  .>f 
the  cunning  natural  to  our  family.  Some  thought  him 
*  wise' — but  although  I  have  no  disposition  to  abuse 
any  of  my  ancestors,  I  think  the  QUEEN  OF  SHEBA  (a 
very  nice  young  woman  she  was,  too,)  rather  '  come 
it'  over  the  old  fellow ! 

By  a  continuous  chain,  I  trace  my  relationship  thence 
through  a  rather  tortuous  line,  from  generation  to  gen 
eration,  down  to  Mr.  Matthew,  not  the  Comedian,  but 
to  Matthew,  the  Collector,  (of  Galilee,  I  think,) 
who  'sat  at  the  receipt  of  customs.'  To  this  connec 
tion  I  was  undoubtedly  indebted  for  an  appointment  in 
the  Boston  Custom  House.  Matthew  lived  in  the  good 
old  <  high  tariff'  times — when  something  in  the  shape 
of  duties  was  coming  in.  But  as  nothing  is  said  of  his 
finale,  I  rather  think  he  absquatulated  with  the  funds  of 
the  Government.  But  I  will  come  to  the  information 
you  desire,  without  further  ado. 

You  know  the  <  OLD  'UN,7  undoubtedly.  (If  you 
don't,  there  is  very  little  doubt  but  you  will  know  his 
namesake,  hereafter,  if  you  don't  cease  to  squander  your 
time  in  looking  after  the  plunder  of  the  Burnham  family !) 
Well  the  <  Old  'Un'  is  in  the  «  direct  line,'  to  which  I 
have  now  endeavoured  to  turn  your  attention,  and  I  have 
been  called,  of  late  years,  the  <  YOUNG  'UN' — for  rea 
sons  that  will  not  interest  you.  To  my  honoured  Senior 
(whom  I  set  down  in  the  category  as  my  legitimate 
'  dad')  I  would  refer  you  for  further  particulars.  He 
is  tenacious  of  the  character  of  his  progeny — and  loves 
me  ;  I  would  commend  you  to  him,  for  it  will  warm  the 


A   WINDFALL   FOR   THE    <  YOUNG    5UN.'  97 

cockles  of  his  old  heart  to  learn  that  the  '  YOUNG  'UN* 
is  in  luck. 

If  you  chance  to  live  long  enough  to  get  as  far  down 
in  my  letter  as  this  paragraph,  allow  me  to  add  that 
should  you  happen  to  receive  any  very  considerable 
amount  as  my  share  of  the  '  property/  for  the  Burnham 
family,  please  not  overlook  the  fact  that  I  am  '  one  of 
'em' — and  that  I  have  taken  pains  to  tell  you  '  whar  I 
cum  from.'  Please  forward  my  dividend  by  Adams  & 
Co.'s  Express  (if  their  crates  should  be  big  enough  to 
convey  it),  and  if  it  should  prove  too  bulky,  turn  it  into 
American  gold  and  charter  a  steamer  to  come  round  for 
the  purpose ;  I  shan't  mind  the  expense !  In  conclu 
sion,  I  can  only  intimate  the  high  consideration  I  enter 
tain  towards  yourself  for  having  pre-paid  the  postage 
upon  your  communication — a  very  unusual  transaction 
with  legal  gentlemen.  My  sensations,  upon  closing  this 
hasty  scrawl,  are,  I  fancy,  very  nearly  akin  to  those  of 
the  Hibernian  who  '  liked  to  have  found  a  sovereign 
once' — but  you  will  allow  me  to  assure  you  that  it  will 
afford  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  meet  you  at  the 
FRANKLIN  HOUSE,  in  this  city,  where  I  shall  be  happy 
to  give  you  any  further  information  in  my  power  touch 
ing  that '  putty'  in  prospective. 

I  am  very  resp'y,  your  obed't  serv't, 

GEO.  P.  BURNHAM,  alias  the  *  YOUNG  'UN.' 


A  TALE  OF  A  TURKEY. 

AN   UNFORTUNATE   FACT. 

Orlando. — Forbear !  and  eat  no  more ! 

Duke. — We  have  eat  none  yet. 

Orlando. — Nor  shall  you  till  my  appetite  be  served. 

As  You  Like  It. 

ONE  Saturday  evening,  not  long  ago,  a  trio  of  young 
gentlemen  going  home  in  the  evening,  after  the  labours 
of  the  week  had  ended,  chancing  to  look  upwards  at  a 
third  story  window  of  a  certain  house  in  a  certain 
street,  not  many  leagues  from  the  well-known  Marlboro' 
Hotel,  Boston,  tenanted  by  an  acquaintance  of  theirs, 
a  young  man  of  great  histrionic  ability  and  repute, 
espied  one  of  '  Plato's  Men,'  i.  e.  a  bird  of  the  genus 
Turkey,  denuded  of  its  feathers,  and  in  fact  prepared 
for  spitting,  hanging  in  a  melancholy  manner  from  a 
window-fastening,  for  the  benefit  of  pure  air. 

Mr.  T.,  the  proprietor  of  the  bird,  being  something 
of  a  bird-fancier,  had,  a  few  days  previous,  purchased 
this  choice  turkey,  for  the  purpose  of  regaling  himself 
and  family  therewith  on  Sunday,  wisely  deferring  the 
luxurious  feast  to  a  day  of  rest,  whereon  the  wicked 
prompter  ceaseth  from  troubling,  and  the  annoying  call- 
boy  is  quiescent.  So  there  the  turkey — or  the  ding- 
dong,  as  Paul  Shack  has  it,  hung  in  the  night  breeze : 

And  like  a  mighty  pendulum, 
All  solemnly  he  swung. 


A   TALE   OF   A   TURKEY.  99 

But  if  Mr.  T.  loved  turkey,  so  did  his  three  friends, 
and  Mephistopheles  prompted  them  to  a  <  deed  without 
a  name ;'  (null  and  void,  accordingly,  their  easy  con 
sciences  argued,)  and  this  was  no  other  than  the  abduc 
tion  of  the  bird. 

"  Turkies  are  high,"  said  one  of  the  trio. 

"  Yes,  but  they'll  come  down,"  answered  another, 
who,  by  chance,  had  become  possessed  of  a  long  cedar 
pole,  which  had  been  dropped  out  of  an  unconscious 
countryman's  cart.  To  lash  the  hooked  blade  of  an 
open  jacknife  to  the  extremity  of  this  pole  was  the  work 
of  a  moment ;  in  another,  the  string  which  attached  the 
turkey  to  his  nail  was  cut. 

"  The  last  link  was  broken,"  and  down  came  the 
bird— -facilis  descensus,  as  the  poet  has  it. 

The  watchman  was  slumbering,  and  the  prize  was 
secured.  They  carried  it  into  an  eating-house,  and 
ordered  mine  host  to  roast  it  and  serve  it  up  the  next 
day  with  appropriate  ( fixins'  for  their  Sunday  dinner. 

The  next  day,  punctual  to  the  appointed  hour,  the 
friends  assembled  and  were  told  their  meal  would  soon 
be  served.  While  waiting  for  this  desirable  consumma 
tion,  in  came  the  owner  of  the  abducted  bird.  He  was 
pale  and  wan,  and  in  a  state  of  considerable  agitation. 
Walking  up  to  the  landlord  in  a  nervous  manner,  he 
begged  to  know  if  he  could,  as  a  great  favour,  accom 
modate  him  with  about  five  pounds  of  beef-steak. 

"  It's  all  gone,"  was  the  answer. 
«  Mutton  ?" 

"All  out." 

"  What  have  ydu  got  ?"gasped  the  despairing  victim. 
"  I've  got  nothing  for  my  Sunday  dinner." 


100  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

<  You'd  ought  to  have  provided  beforehand,"  said 
the  sententious  host. 

"  So  I  did,"  replied  the  agonized  actor : 

"  I  had  a  turkey,  and  a  better  one 
Ne'er  did  repose  upon  a  rusty  nail ; 
But  he  is  gone ;  whither,  I  know  not,  sir. 
The  earth  has  bubbles  as  the  water  hath, 

And  he  was  one  of  these 

A  turkey  towering  in  his  pride  of  place, 
Was  hawked  and  moused  at 

by  some  prowling  rascal — I  only  wish  I  knew  who  it 
was." 

"Won't  you  dine  with  us?"  asked  one  of  the  con 
spirators,  "we  are  going  to  have  turkey." 

"  No — no — I  thank  you — think  of  my  family,  they 
would  have  no  turkey. 

"  Farewell,  a  long  farewell  to  dreams  of  turkey. 

Landlord,  what  can  you  give  me  ?" 

"  I'm  sorry  to  say,"  said  the  host,  after  a  wink  from 
one  of  the  initiated,  "  that  I  can't  spare  you  any  meat 
or  poultry.  I'm  hard  up  myself.  If  it  was  any  other 
day  but  Sunday.  As  far  as  a  pot  of  baked  beans  goes, 
however " 

"  Beans !"  shrieked  the  victim,  "  do  you  take  us  for 
Mexicans,  that  you  would  feed  us  on  their  national  ra 
tions  ?  Begone !  thou  troublest  me — I'm  not  in  the 
bean-eating  vein.  My  wife !  my  little  ones !  Beans  /" 
he  repeated,  with  a  sneering  and  demoniac  emphasis. 

"  Better  have  'em,"  said  the  landlord. 

"  Beans  be  it,  then !"  said  the  victim,  in  the  deep, 
hollow  tones  of  forced  resignation. 


A   TALE   OF  A   TURKEY.  101 

"Salubrious,  savoury,  and  economical  beans!"  sug 
gested  the  landlord  pleasantly  and  mildly.  "Ah!"  he 
added  soothingly,  as  he  folded  up  a  brown  pot  in  a 
napkin  and  delivered  it  to  the  despairing  applicant,  "  I 
could  almost  pick  a  bean  with  you  myself." 

"  Gentlemen!"  said  the  victim,  folding  the  bean-pot 
in  his  arms  with  an  air  of  great  dignity,  "you  cannot 
fully  appreciate  my  feelings,  you  cannot  sympathize 
entirely  with  me.  You  called  for  turkey,  and  you  had 
it :  I,  who  had  for  four  days  been  preparing  my  palate 
for  the  inordinate  delectation  which  a  well-roasted  din- 
don  invariably  affords,  am  obliged  to  satisfy  it  with  an 
article  compared  to  which,  turkey  is,  as  Shakspeare  ob 
serves,  <  Hyperion  to  a  Satyr.'  Imagine  the  transition 
from  roast  turkey  to  baked  beans !  Pardon  these  tears ! 
Truly  there  is  but  one  step  from  the  sublime  to  the 
ridiculous !"  And  with  these  words  Mr.  T.  disappeared 
with  his  sorrowful  burthen. 

The  conspirators  dined  well  that  day,  while  their  vic 
tim — but  we  will  forbear  to  draw  aside  the  veil  which 
should  shroud  the  sorrows  of  a  bereaved  and  afflicted 
family. 

On  New  Year's  eve,  however,  Mr.  T.  was  agreeably 
surprised  by  the  reception  of  a  note  and  a  parcel.  The 
former  was  anonymous,  and  contained  condolences  upon 
his  loss  ;  the  latter  contained  a  turkey,  finer,  fatter, 
heavier  than  the  lamented  and  lost  bird. 

When  the  remains  of  this  atonement  were  removed 
from  the  table  upon  New  Year's  day,  Mr.  T.  leaned 
back  in  his  chair,  weary  with  his  labours.  "  That  was 
capital !"  said  he — "  but  upon  my  soul,  I  wish  I  could 
find  out  who  stole  that  other  turkey" 

F.  A.  D. 


APPLYING  THE  PRINCIPLE. 

A  BRACE  of  legs,  thrust  considerably  too  far  through 
a  pair  of  mottled  pants,  and  attached  to  a  couple  of  the 
largest-sized  feet,  which  were  encased  in  twin  cowhide 
brogans,  formed  the  underpinning  to  a  long,  slabsided 
body,  of  otherwise  generous  proportions — the  whole 
being  surmounted  by  a  head,  which  was  covered  with  a 
gray  '  five  year  old'  (at  least)  sealskin  cap.  This  sum 
total — legs,  pants,  feet,  shoes,  body,  and  chapeau — was 
the  property,  by  possession,  of  Mr.  ZENAS  HUMSPUN. 

ZENAS  had  been  on  <  a  bat'  during  the  night  previous, 
and  had  squandered  full  half-a-dollar  on  himself,  in 
white-eye  and  sweetening.  But  his  returning  senses 
made  him  feel  philosophical — and,  on  the  morning  we 

speak  of  him,  he  stood,  at  an  early  hour,  in 

street,  gazing  mechanically  at  the  Telegraphic  wires — 
soliloquizing,  thus  wise : 

<  <  'ic ! — That's  the  telerguff.  W 'ic — well,  I  don't 

poorceive  nuthin'  per — 'ic — culier  'bout  them  strings — 
on'y  one's  bigger  'en  t'other — 'ic." 

"That's  the  lighPnin1  line,  the  big  'un" — said  an 
urchin  in  the  doorway  near  by. 

«  Wen  does  she — 'ic — start  ?" 

"You'd  better  ax  in  thar." 

"Whar?" 

"  In  the  office,  up  thar.11 

The  loafer  was  shown  to  the  door  of  the  building,  and 


APPLYING   THE   PRINCIPLE.  103 

« by  hook  or  crook'  found  his  way  up  three  flights  of 
stairs,  into  the  Telegraphic  office.  The  attendants  in 
quired  "  what  the  gentleman  had  to  forward  ?" 

«  For'ud  ?— 'ic— who's  sJie  ?" 

"  What  will  you  send  ?" 

"Send  wharl" 

"This  is  the  Telegraph  office,  sir." 

"  Well — 'ic — who'n  thunder  said  it  wusn't?" 

"I  supposed  you  had  business,  sir." 

"  Nuthin'  o'  the  sort — 'ic — quite  the  re — 'ic — verse 
o'  the  confrairy." 

"  What  wiU  you  have  ?" 

"  I  want  to  make  some — 'ic — quiries." 

The  hour  being  early,  and  little  doing,  the  clerks  very 
charitably  determined  upon  some  fun  with  the  fellow, 
with  a  view  to  sobering  him.  The  opportunity  for  any 
thing  gratuitous  escaped  them,  however — for  as  they 
commenced  a  consultation  upon  the  best  means  to  benefit 
the  intruder,  he  stepped  up  to  one  of  the  batteries,  which 
happened,  fortunately,  to  be  but  lightly  charged — and, 
concluding  that  the  knobs  were  portable,  he  pulled  his 
cap  over  his  forehead  and  attempted  to  remove  one  of 
the  balls ;  the  next  moment  Zenas  lay  stretched  upon  the 
floor! 

He  arose,  as  best  he  could,  and  turned  to  the  clerk, 
with — 

"  Look  yere,  Mister — 'ic — wot's — yure — name  ?  I 
kin  lick  as  many  sich  like  skunks  as  you,  as  could  be 

druv  into  a  forty  aiker  lot !  Wot  in did  yer — 'ic 

— nock  a  innersent  man  down  that  way  fer? — Eh?" 

"  Nobody  touched  you !"  said  the  clerk. 

«  The  devil  they— 'ic— didn't !" 


104  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

«  No,  Sir.    You  took  the" 

«  Took  wot  ?  Yere's  yure  corntemptible  copper" — 
and,  proceeding  to  dash  a  loose  penny  towards  the 
attendant,  which  lay  upon  the  machine — his  fingers  came 
in  contact  with  the  battery,  and  away  he  went  again, 
heels  over  head,  across  the  floor! 

"Look  yere!"  continued  the  sufferer,  who,  by  this 
time,  was  wrell  nigh  sobered — "  'ed  blast  yure  infernal 
pictur,  wot  in  thunder  are  you  'baout  ?" 

"  You  mustn't  handle  the  tools" — observed  the  clerk, 
nearly  bursting  with  laughter. 

"  Look  you !  Mr.  Wot's-your-name — I  arn't  to  be 
fooled  this  yere  way,  fer  nuthin' — I  arn't.  By  thunder ! 
I'm  a  inderpendunt  individooal,  I  am — and  this  yere 
nockin'  people  down,  without  notice  of  no  kind,  arn't 

tJie  thing,  by !  Ef  you'll  open  that  yere  door,  I'll 

go  out  o'  this,  and  no  questions  axed." 

«  That's  the  door,  sir." 

«  That  brass  handle  ?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm  blowed  ef  you  do,  though!  This  child  don't 
meddle  with  no  more  hard  ware  in  this  trap,  no  how !" 

The  door  was  opened  by  the  clerk,  and  the  fellow 
sidled  out.  A  suppressed  laugh  pervaded  the  counte 
nance  of  the  attendant,  as  Zenas  departed — which,  as 
the  door  closed,  vented  itself  in  a  broad  haw-haw. 

"  You're  a  smart  young  gentleman — you  are !"  bawled 
the  loafer,  through  the  keyhole,  as  he  held  the  door  fast 
with  both  hands — "you're  a  very  smart  young  man! 
You'd  like  to  git  out  o'  that,  and  go  to  yur  breakfast, 
bimeby,  may  be !  An'  ef  yer  do  git  any  grub  afore  noon, 
jes  let  a  feller  'bout  my  size  know  it — will  yer  ?  I'll 


APPLYING   THE   PRINCIPLE.  105 

teach  yer  to  knock  people  down,  simultaneously — fer 
nuthin' — /will" — and,  from  the  preparations  making  on 
the  outside,  the  prospect  was  that  the  "  insiders"  were 
to  be  made  prisoners. 

A  thought  struck  the  attendant.  He  disconnected  the 
wire,  and  placing  it  in  contact  with  the  knob  of  the  door 
upon  the  inside,  his  companion  let  on  the  battery ! 

The  door  flew  open  instantaneously,  and  our  valiant 
stranger,  with  the  sealskin  cap,  was  discovered  in  the 
act  of  an  anti-angular  descent  down  stairs,  the  side  of 
his  head  scraping  the  paint  from  the  edges  of  the  steps, 
and  his  legs  meantime  performing  an  involuntary 
pirouette,  which  would  have  done  infinite  credit  to  a 
French  dancing-master! 

It  so  chanced  that  Zenas  had  purchased  a  bunch  of 
lucifer  matches  the  night  before,  which  he  had  deposited 
in  his  coat  pocket.  In  his  progress  down  stairs,  the 
matches  had  become  ignited,  and  by  the  time  he  had 
reached  the  bottom  of  the  first  flight,  he  had  partially  re 
covered  from  the  first  effects  of  £  the  shock' — but  the 
fluid  tingled  through  his  veins,  his  coat-tails  were  on  fire, 
and  he  was  not  <  set  forward'  in  his  imagination  any, 
by  this  last  effort  of  his  tormentors.  He  discovered  the 
fire,  and  presuming  it  was  part  and  parcel  of  the  <  cussid 
invention' — he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  with  both  hands 
briskly  at  work  behind  him,  for  the  purpose  of  smothering 
the  flame,  which  was  roasting  the  seat  of  his  inexpressi 
bles — he  *  put'  for  the  street  door  at  full  gallop ! 

'Fire!   Fire!     Help!   yere!      OwH   murd — fire! 
help !"  shouted  the  victim,  as  he  darted  into  the  street. 

Away  he  dashed  towards  Baltimore,  at  a  speed  which 
the  '  lightnin'  line'  itself  might  have  been  proud  of. 


106  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

Luckily,  a  square  off,  he  discovered  a  servant,  with  a 
hose  attached  to  one  of  the  hydrants,  busily  engaged  in 
washing  off  the  pavement.  He  rushed  to  the  spot,  and 
turning  short  before  him — a  posteriori — he  begged  him, 
at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  for  God's  sake"  to  "put  him 
out!" 

Perhaps  his  sable  friend's  eye  didn't  glisten,  and  may 
be  his  <  ivory'  didn't  shine,  as  he  charitably  turned 
'the  current  of  that  stream'  upon  the  unmentionable 
portion  of  the  poor  devil's  netherments !  "  The  fire 
was  extinguished  without  serious  damage,"  as  the  pa 
pers  say — the  loafer  was  thoroughly  saturated — and 
having  exchanged  his  <  heavy  inside  wet'  for  a  skin- 
drenching,  he  departed,  perfectly  sober,  amidst  the  jeers 
of  the  crowd  who  had  witnessed  \hejinale — most  vocife 
rously  cursing  all  improvements  in  magnetism  and  com 
bustibles  ! 

G.  P.  B. 


LOVE  IN  THE  BOWERY. 

"  The  course  of  true  love  didn't  never  run  smooth." 

Shak spears — Bowery  edition* 

I. 

I  SEEN  her  on  the  sidewalk, 

When  I  run  with  number  9 : 
My  eyes  spontaneous  sought  out  hern — 

And  hern  was  fixed  on  mine. 
She  waved  her  pocket  handkerchief, 

As  we  went  rushin'  hy — 
No  boss  that  ever  killed  in  York 

Was  happier  than  I. 
I  felt  that  I  had  done  it ; 

And  what  had  won  her  smile — 
'Twas  them  embroidered  braces, 

And  that  'ere  immortal  tile. 

2. 

I  sought  her  out  at  Wauxhall, 

Afore  that  place  was  shet — 
Oh  !  that  happy,  happy  evenin', 

I  recollex  it  yet. 
I  gin  her  cords  of  peanuts, 

And  a  apple  and  a  '  wet.' 
Oh  !  that  happy,  happy  evenin', 

I  recollex  it  yet. 


108  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

3. 

I  took  her  out  to  Harlem — 

On  the  road  we  cut  a  swell, 
And  the  nag  we  had  afore  us 

Went  twelve  mile  afore  he  fell. 
And  though  ven  he  struck  the  pavement, 

The  '  crab'  began  to  fail, 
I  got  another  mile  out  — 

By  twisting  of  his  tail. 

4. 

I  took  her  to  the  Bowery — 

She  sat  long  side  of  me — 
They  acted  out  a  piece  they  called 

"  The  Wizard  of  the  Sea." 
And  when  the  sea-fight  was  fetched  on, 

Eliza  cried  "  hay !  hay !" 
And  like  so  many  minutes  there 

Five  hours  slipped  away. 

5. 

Before  the  bridle  halter, 

I  thought  to  call  her  mine — 
The  day  was  fixed  when  she  to  me 

Her  hand  and  heart  should  jine. 
The  rum  old  boss,  the  father,  swore 

He'd  gin  her  out  er  hand, 
Two  hundred  cash — and  also  treat 

To  number  9's  men  stand. 


DRIVING   A   PARSON   ASHORE.  109 

6. 

But  bless  me !  if  she  didn't  slip 

Her  halter  on  the  day  : 
A  pedlar  from  Connecticut, 

He  carried  her  away. 
And  when  the  news  was  brought  to  me, 

I  felt  almighty  blue  ; 
And  though  I  didn't  shed  no  tear, 

Perhaps  I  cussed  '  a  few.' 

7. 
Well,  let  it  pass — there's  other  gals, 

As  beautiful  as  she ; 
And  many  a  butcher's  lovely  child 

Has  cast  sheep's  eyes  at  me. 
I  wears  no  crape  upon  my  hat, 

'Cause  I'm  a  packin'  sent — 
I  only  takes  a  extra  horn, 

Observing,  "  LET  HER  WENT  !" 

F.  A.  D. 


DRIVING  A  PARSON  ASHORE. 

A  GREAT  many  very  probable  stories  are  told  of  acci 
dents  and  hair-breadth  escapes — by  sea  and  land.  The 
traveller  who  finds  himself  on  board  a  Mississippi 
steamer,  will  occasionally  meet  a  '  passenger'  who  has 
shaken  hands  with  the  { grim  monster,'  and  parted  com- 


110  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

pany  with  him,  at  considerably  less  than  a  moment's 
notice ! 

We  were  a  fortunate  collection,  on  board  the  elegant 
'  Yorktvwn' — upon  one  of  her  downward  trips  last  sea 
son,  and  with  a  full  river  and  a  rapid  current,  were 
making  headway  at  more  than  a  twenty  mile  lick,  down 
stream — on  a  clear  day  early  in  November. 

'  Drinks  all  round'  had  been  the  order  of  the  evening 
(with  a  certain  coterie  of  friends),  the  occupation  being 
varied  only  by  ( cobblers  for  the  party' — '  snifters  for 
the  crowd' — or  '  slugs  for  the  entire  company' — until, 
by  common  consent,  the  '  mourners'  settled  themselves 
down  into  comparative  quiet. 

Most  of  the  passengers  had  disappeared  for  the  night, 
and  only  a  knot  of  '  hard-heads'  were  left  upon  deck. 
These  remained  till  day-light,  amusing  each  other  with 
long  yarns.  At  early  morning  they  had  drawn  some 
half-a-dozen  listeners  around  them,  among  whom  was  a 
superstitious  impostor,  in  rusty  black  and  straight  hair 
— who  was  endeavouring  to  palm  himself  off  for  a  cler 
gyman,  and  who  was  strongly  suspected  by  one  of  the 
story-tellers.  The  principal  object  of  the  most  promi 
nent  speaker  (who  was  a  rough  but  good-natured  Vir 
ginian)  seemed  to  be,  to  impress  upon  the  mind  of  this 
pretended  Rev.,  the  dangers  and  jeopardies  of  steam- 
travelling  ;  more  particularly  in  boats,  more  especially 
upon  rivers,  and  more  peculiarly  on  the  Mississippi  ri 
ver  !  The  parson  had  said  little,  but  he  gave  his  neigh 
bours  to  understand  that  all  his  predilections  were  in 
favour  of  the  '  doctrine  of  fore-ordination.' 

"  Whatever  is  to  be,  will  be,"  sighed  the  rusty  gen 
tleman,  as  the  Virginian  concluded  an  account  of  a 


DRIVING   A   PARSON   ASHORE.  Ill 

dreadful  steamboat  accident,  which  occurred  only  a  few 
days  previously. 

"  You  b'lieve  it,  do  you,  stranger  ?" 

"  Indeed,  my  friend,  I  do." 

"  P'raps  you  never  heern  tell  o'  that  'orful  catastro- 
phy  as  took  place  Aere-abouts,  some  time  ago  ?" 

"  Mercy  I— No." 

"  Last  year — afo'  Christmas" 

"To  what?" 

"  To  the  steamer  Snorter." 

«  No !     Where  ?" 

"  On  this  very  river." 

"How?" 

"  Bu'st  her  biler." 

"  When  ?" 

"  Just  about  this  time  o'  day." 

"  The  dev 1  mean,  you  don't  say  so!" 

"  Oh,  yes.  What  is  ter  be,  will  be — and  a  feller 
can't  help  it." 

The  tabs  of  a  dingy  white  neck-cloth  dangled  at  the 
side  of  the  narrator's  chair,  and  a  pair  of  dingier  gray 
eyes  were  fixed  upon  the  Virginian's  as  he  proceeded. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?"   asked  the  reverend. 

"  Wai.  We  had  a  fello'  abo'd,  as  was  struck  with  a 
fit  o'  preachin9 — and  the  cuss  never  'd  sleep  o'  nights, 
but  keep  a  hollerin'  and  blo'in' — cos  he  was  afeered 
sunthin'  would  split  afo'  day — he  said — we  wus  such 
a  wicked  set,  and  he'd  try  to  hev  sum  uv  us  put  asho'. 
He  was  a  Jonah,  cuss  him,  but  we  fixed  him  afo'  we  got 
through." 

"  How  ?"  asked  the  parson. 

"  How  ?     W'y— we  left  him  asho' !" 


112  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

«  Where  ?" 

«  On  the  river — yere." 

"In  the  night?" 

"No.  Just  about  this  ttme!  We  overhauled  a 
boat  as  wus  runnin'  in  the  opposition  (at  a  wood-yard 
below),  and  afo'  we  knew  whar  we  wus,  the  cap'n  had 
got  our  craft  under  weigh  agin  (for  the  feller  had  started 
off  ahead  of  us,  in  a  hurry),  and  we  wus  soon  neck  and 
neck.  The  pitch-knots  was  crammed  inter  the  furnaces, 
right  smart,  stranger,  and  away  we  went,  sometimes  afo' 
and  sometimes  abreast  of  the  « Sno'rter.'  Wul — we 
finally  hove  in  sight  of  another  wood-yard,  whar  we  hed 
to  stop  to  take  in  fuel.  We  veered  round  to  the  sho', 
and  made  fast  in  a  jifly." 

"  Well  ?"  said  the  parson,  as  his  eyes  started  in  their 
sockets. 

"  Wul,  thar  was  a  heap  o'  steam  on  her,  and  we  hed 
made  up  our  minds  that  what  <  wus  to  be,  would  be,' 
and  it  wusn't  o'  no  use  to  be  skeert  afo'  we  wus  hurt  ; 
'n  so  we  jes  naterally  insisted  that  the  other  craft  must 
be  beat  any  how." 

"Well?" 

«  Wul,  wot  do  you  suppose  the  cap'n  did,  stranger?" 

«  Can't  say." 

"  He  druv  one  end  of  a  cro'bar  into  the  loop  over 
the  'scape-valve  (which  wras  bobbin'  up  an'  down,  and 
lettin'  off  the  extra  steam)  and  jes  set  hisself  dovm  on 
the  other  end  uv  it  /" 

«  The  devil  he  did  !" 

"  The  what,  stranger?" 

"  I  say  it  can't  be  possible ! 

"  But  I  say  he  did,  though — and  thar  he  sot  till  she 
blo'dup"' 


DRIVING    A    PARSON    ASHORE.  113 

"Busted?" 

"  Oh,  yes '  When  we  started  from  the  sho' — at  the 
fust  turn  of  the  wheel  on  her,  she  bust  into  a  thousand 
splinters." 

"  Awful !"  says  the  parson. 

"  The  cap'n  wus  never  heer'd  on.  I  was  standin' 
on  the  upper  deck,"  continued  the  Virginian,  "  and  the 
feller  as  wanted  to  preach  so  bad,  was  heavin'  the  pitch 
into  the  fires  when  she  bust." 

"  And  you  never  saw  him  more  ?"  inquired  the  par 
son,  in  breathless  suspense. 

"  0  yes.  Jls  me  and  tlie  smoke-pipe  went  UP,  we  met 
the  cuss  coming  DOWN  ! !" 

"  Well  ?"  continued  the  impostor. 

«  Well,  I  kno'ed  he  wus  a  Jonah,"  added  the  Vir 
ginian,  "  an'  ef  he  hadn't  a  bin  done  fer,  as  he  wus,  I'd 
a  licked  him  to  death — fer  palming  himself  off  fer  a  par- 
son,  which  he  wusn't !" 

The  gentleman  with  the  straight  hair  and  seedy  coat 
turned  pale  upon  this,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  story 
the  bell  rang,  below — the  steampipe  sent  forth  its  thun 
der — and  the  boat  veered  round  in  front  of  another 
wood-yard. 

"  What's  that?"  asked  the  pretended  parson. 

"  We're  heavin'   asho'.     Tfiis  is  the  very  yard  /" 

The  impostor  scrambled  ashore — up  the  steep  bank 
— and  when  the  last  bell  rung,  nothing  was  seen  of  him. 
We  left  again,  but  no  parson  was  in  sight.  We  had 
been  detained  half  an  hour  at  the  yard,  and  were  now 
quietly  making  our  way  down  stream,  close  to  the  shore 
--when  from  a  bluff  on  the  bank,  a  mile  or  so  below 
the  wood-yard,  our  missing  parson  was  suddenly  dis- 


114  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

covered,  shaking  his  clenched  fist  most  lustily  at  his 
Virginian  friend,  who  was  the  first  to  espy  him! 

The  only  reply  vouchsafed  by  his  tormentor,  to  this 
pugnacious  demonstration,  was  a  certain  twisting  of  his 
fingers  in  front  of  his  phiz — while  his  thumb  rested  gen 
tly  upon  the  tip  of  his  nose!  We  continued  on  our 
course,  and  the  last  I  saw  of  the  frightened  <  parson,' 
he  was  rushing  along  the  river's  bank  at  top-speed,  and 
evincing  a  most  religious  desire  to  find  a  big  stone  to 
hurl  at  the  head  of  his  persecutor,  who  soon  left  him  to 
his  own  reflections ! 

G.  P.  B. 


TIM  LINKS,  THE  SHOWMAN. 

A  DESULTORY   SKETCH    OF   CHARACTER. 

"  What  though  a  man  be  obligated  to  dance  a  bear,  a  man  may  be 
a  gentleman  for  all  that." 

She  Stoops  to  Conquer. 

WE  first  knew  TIM  LINKS  as  a  gentleman  in  velvet 
smalls,  who  used  to  lead  calico  horses  into  the  ring  at  a 
travelling  circus,  and,  in  connexion  with  another  gentle 
man  in  velvet  smalls,  adjust  the  spring-board  and  carry 
out  the  evergreen  tree  that  grew  oranges  for  the  consump 
tion  of  the  « Sprites  of  the  Silver  Shower.'  He  never  as 
pired  to  the  dignity  of  spangles,  and  his  smalls,  from  con 
stant  contact  with  the  ring,  became  of  such  an  inveterate 
tan-colour,  that  when  he  stood  in  the  arena  in  a  dim 


TIM   LINKS,    THE   SHOWMAN.  115 

light,  he  looked  like  a  Herculean  torso  from  the  ruins  of 
Pompeii.  We  next  hear  of  him  as  second  camel- 
puncher  in  a  Grand  Caravan.  And  so  Links  rose,  step 
by  step,  until  he  became  possessor  of  a  cheap  flamingo 
and  a  plethoric  porcupine,  when  he  seceded  from  the 
Caravan,  and  set  up  a  <  side  show,'  travelling  with  the 
Menagerie  as  an  independent  satellite,  and  diverting  a 
good  many  coppers  from  the  legitimate  establishment. 
The  <  Grand  Junction  United  Zoological  Institute'  finally 
bought  him  out,  and  he  set  up  a  shingle  in  Broadway, 
some  sixteen  years  ago,  with  a  small  assortment  of  ani 
mals,  which  he  exhibited  at  a  shilling  a  head  admission. 
I  remember  the  original  flamingo — with  very  few  of  the 
original  feathers  left — used  to  stand  on  one  leg  in  an  area 
outside  the  show,  as  a  forlorn  hope  to  entice  the  unwary 
within  doors.  Links  used  to  stand  a  good  part  of  his 
time  at  the  door,  to  solicit  custom  as  well  as  to  parry 
the  satirical  sallies  which  the  <  b'hoys'  were  wont  to  di 
rect  against  his  favourite  bird. 

"Bless  my  eye-balls!"  a  juvenile  critic  would  ex 
claim,  "  that  'ere  a  flamingo !  Why,  he  hain't  got  but 
one  leg,  and  he's  as  bare  as  a  picked  crow." 

"Gentlemen!"  Links  would  say,  "he's  a  moultin' 
(he  was  always  a  moulting,  according  to  Links),  and 
he'll  come  out  week  after  next  as  red  as  a  pan-tile. 
You  blasted  fool !  (addressing  the  bird  with  a  venomous 
punch)  let  down  your  t'other  leg !  Don't  you  see  'em 
poking  fun  at  yer !  There,  gentlemen  !  that  'ere's  the 
original  St.  Domingo  of  South  Ammeriky,  which  feeds 
on  cochineal  in  his  native  state,  and  owes  his  colour  to 
the  prevalence  of  red  pepper  in  Cayenne — drinks  no 
thing  but  port  wine,  and  is  partial  to  lady-bugs.  Walk 


116  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

in,  gentlemen,  and  see  the  collection — bears,  tigers, 
kangaroos,  and  porkepines,  which  beats  the  Zoological 
Gardens  all  holler,  and  can't  be  come  over  by  the  Gar 
dens  desPlantys  in  Par-ee/" 

This  appeal  used  to  draw  down  torrents  of  applause 
and  laughter,  when  Links  would  disappear  through  a 
green  baize  door,  and  his  exit  would  be  followed  by  a 
growl  from  an  invisible  bear  and  {  Buy  a  Broom'  from 
a  hand-organ,  with  the  middle  bars  left  out. 

Tim  Links  was  not  a  man  of  exemplary  habits. 
There  was  a  certain  plebeian  bar-room  in  a  by-street, 
hard  by  his  '  Institute,'  where  he  was  wont  to  sit  from 
11,  P.  M.,  into  the  small  hours  of  the  morning,  imbibing 
strong  waters,  and  growling  over  his  cups  like  an  un 
happy  bear,  whose  disposition,  when  not  perfectly  sober, 
and  imperfectly  drunk,  seemed  to  be  his  own.  One 
night,  the  landlord,  incensed  at  the  row  he  made,  re 
proached  him  with  the  severity  of  the  <  turkey'  he  had 
<  on,'  and  shoved  him  out  of  doors  sans  ceremonie. 

"  It's  a  turkey  I've  got  on,"  hiccuped  Tim  Links,  as 
he  noticed  a  singular  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  pave 
to  rise  up  and  impede  his  progress — "  to-morrow  night, 
old  fellow,  it'll  be  another  sort  of  bird." 

And  sure  enough,  as  the  clock  struck  twelve  on  the 
ensuing  night,  Tim  walked  into  the  bar-room  with  a 
bald  eagle  perched  upon  his  shoulders.  Marching 
up  to  the  bar,  he  ordered  a  double  tumbler  of  whis 
key  punch.  Now,  though  the  <  bird  of  our  banner'  was 
very  fond  of  Tim,  he  was  not  partial  to  strangers ;  and 
when  the  old  Dutch  landlord  was  handing  his  glass  to 
Tim,  the  eagle,  poising  himself  upon  one  claw,  thrust 
forth  the  other  in  ravenous  guise,  and  inflicted  a  severe 
scratch  on  the  pate  of  mine  host. 


'  While  the  bear  very  quietly  took  an  arm-chair  at  the  other,  and  disclosed  »  double 
row  of  sharp  serrated  teeth."— Page  117, 


TIM   LINKS,   THE    SHOWMAN.  117 

«  Donder  and  blixen !"  roared  Mein  Herr.  "  Take 
the  tarat  pird  away,  Tim !  Ter  tuyfel !  how  mein  head 
shmarts!" 

"  Like  him  better  than  a  turkey  ?"  asked  Tim,  with  a 
fiendish  grin. 

The  bar-room  loafers  rose  in  affright,  as  the  savage 
bird,  spreading  his  pinions,  circled  over  their  heads,  ut 
tering  his  shrill  shrieks,  menacing  each  individual  in  the 
assembly,  and  not  ceasing  his  gyrations  until  he  had 
driven  them  all  forth  into  the  street. 

With  a  malignant  smile  of  satisfaction,  Tim  resumed 
his  bird,  and  went  home  as  sober  as  a  church. 

The  next  night,  punctual  to  the  chime  of  twelve,  Tim 
made  his  appearance  in  full  Zoological  costume.  He 
wore  his  eagle  as  before — round  his  neck  he  had  twisted 
a  couple  of  torpid  boas,  and  by  a  short  chain  he  led  a 
very  savage  and  congenial  bear.  The  crowd  receded 
before  his  weighty  steps;  the  Dutchman  was  horror- 
stricken  as  he  beheld  his  uncomfortable  customer  seat 
himself  at  one  side  of  a  table  covered  with  sprigged  oil 
cloth,  while  the  bear  very  quietly  took  an  arm-chair  at 
the  other,  and  disclosed  a  double  row  of  sharp  serrated 
teeth,  as  he  smiled  upon  the  unfortunate  landlord  with  an 
unwonted  effort  at  benignity. 

"  Milk  punch  for  two !"  said  Tim,  sternly,  with  a 
wave  of  his  '  red  right  hand.' 

"  Tirectly,  sir,"  answered  the  quivering  landlord,  in 
the  meekest  tone  imaginable. 

"  Make  'em  strong,"  said  Tim — "  no  nutmeg  for  the 
bear — and  harkye,  a  plate  of  crackers  for  the  bird." 

The  perspiration  poured  down  the  poor  landlord's 
face,  as  he  laboured  in  the  composition  of  the  bibables. 


118  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  And  now,  mein  tear  Mr.  Links,"  said  he,  in  a  sup 
plicating  tone  of  voice,  "  you  vill  come  and  get  te  trinks 
yourself!" 

"  Not  I,  you  cub !"  thundered  the  showman.  "  Fetch 
them  yourself,  or  I'll  set  the  bird  on  you !" 

The  poor  Dutchman,  in  mortal  terror,  trembled  for 
his  life.  He  was  regularly  cornered  now.  But  fright, 
like  hunger,  sharpens  wit,  so  he  set  the  tumblers  on  a 
long-handled  fire-shovel,  and  extending  his  arm  in  the 
fashion  of  a  fencer  making  a  lunge,  he  contrived  to  de 
posit  the  punch  safely  before  the  precious  couple.  Links 
smiled  grimly,  and  nodded  to  the  bear,  as  he  raised  his 
glass  to  his  lips.  The  bear  capsized  the  tumbler  with 
his  snout  and  then  lapped  up  the  liquor,  stopping  now 
and  then  to  lick  his  lips  and  cock  his  red  eye  at  his 
master,  as  if  in  token  of  his  perfect  approbation.  As 
soon  as  he  had  finished,  he  looked  at  the  landlord,  who 
was  contemplating  the  strange  scene  with  open  eyes  and 
mouth,  and  uttered  a  fierce  growl. 

"More  punch!  don't  you  hear  him  ?"  roared  the 
showman. 

The  order  was  instantly  obeyed.  Bruin  made  away 
with  the  second  glass  as  speedily  as  he  mastered  the 
first.  He  drank  a  third  in  the  like  manner — but  refused 
a  fourth.  In  fact,  he  had  got  enough  ;  he  fairly  hiccup- 
ed — swayed  in  his  chair — rocked  his  head  from  side  to 
side  with  maudlin  gravity,  and  snorted. 

"  Te  tamt  trunken  peast !"  ejaculated  the  Dutchman. 

It  seemed  as  if  the  bear  heard  him  ;  for,  with  an  an 
gry  growl,  he  started  from  his  seat  and  made  for  the 
affrighted  landlord.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  latter  sought 
the  shelter  of  the  bar.  Over  it  and  him,  the  animal 


TIM   LINKS,    THE   SHOWMAN.  119 

rolled,  roaring  and  snarling,  smashing  glasses  and  de 
canters,  and  making  a  general  average  of  the  poor 
Dutchman's  stock  in  trade. 

"Take  him  off!  take  him  off!"  roared  Mynheer. 
"  Mine  tear  Mr.  Links.  Tink  of  my  poor  wife  and 
hopeless  little  vons !  I'll  forgive  your  debt — yes,  gra- 
shus!  I  won't  sharge  for  mein  crockery!  Murder! 
murder !"  And  here  his  voice  became  suddenly  extinct 
— he  was  paralyzed  with  terror — lying  on  his  back  be 
hind  the  bar  with  his  hands  and  feet  lifted  up,  like  the 
legs  of  a  whipped  poodle  begging  for  mercy.  Tim 
Links  surveyed  the  picture  with  a  grim  smile. 

"  That  'ere  does  me  good,"  said  he ;  "  it's  a  practi- 
kle  proof  of  a  theory  of  mine  when  I  fust  went  inter  the 
St.  Domingo  spekkleation,  'bout  the  superiority  of  an- 
nimle  over  human  natur.  That  'ere  poor  drivellen' 
creetur  ain't  of  no  account  'long  side  of  a  bar.  Well — 
well — the  crittur  brung  it  onto  himself! — heaving  a  tur 
key  into  my  teeth !  Come  here,  Ben !" 

The  bear  reluctantly  obeyed — for  he  was  partial  to 
fat  Dutchmen — and  staggering  up  to  his  master,  permit 
ted  him  to  take  his  chain.  Tim,  who  was  none  of  the 
soberest,  tied  his  bear  into  a  hard  knot  to  avoid  losing 
him,  gathered  up  his  eagle,  pocketed  a  couple  of  vipers 
who  were  crawling  out  of  his  sleeve,  and  made  tracks 
for  the  'Institute.'  The  next  day,  the  unfortunate 
Dutchman  sold  out,  and  set  up  his  shingle  anew  upon 
Harlem  road.  His  hair,  which  was  once  as  black  as  jet, 
in  one  night  turned  as  white  as  snow ;  and  whenever  his 
friends  commented  on  the  circumstance,  he  used  to  re 
count  his  unhappy  experience,  and  told  how  "  Dat 
tamt  Tim  Links — te  scamp — mit  his  puzzard  and  his 


120  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

snakes,  and  his  tamt  trunken  pear,  frightened  him  all 
over  so  pad  ash  never  was,  and  scart  all  de  plack  hair 
off  his  head  into  white,  yust  like  old  Santa  Claus  upon 
te  sign-poard;"  and  from  that  time  forward  he  never 
ventured  to  declare  as  heretofore,  that  "  Goot  entertain 
ment  for  man  and  peast  might  be  found  mitin  de  prem- 
ishes." 

F.  A.  D. 


"TOO  MUCH  ALIKE!" 

IN  WHICH   IT  IS  SHOWN   SATISFACTORILY,  THAT  ARCHITECTS   SHOULD 
NEVER  PLAN  OR  ERECT  TWO  BUILDINGS  SIMILAR  IN  DESIGN. 

ONE  of  those  ludicrous,  but  singular  occurrences, 
which  will  sometimes  take  place  even  in  the  best  socie 
ty,  came  to  light  a  short  time  since  in  the  '  upper  ten' 
circle  of  a  neighbouring  city,  and  which  for  <  richness,' 
outvies  the  Oolong  and  cream-toast  of  our  old  acquain 
tance  Squeers,  emphatically!  We  have  asserted  that 
such  things  will  happen.  But  then  as  Mrs.  Partington 
would  say,  "  it's  a  queer  world" — and  so  it  is !  But 
for  the  story. 

A  polished  little  French  gentleman  of  considerable 
wealth,  who  had  been  educated  in  the  highest  school 
of  politeness,  had  been  wedded  to  a  beautiful,  but 
showy  woman,  for  a  brief  period ;  and  having,  with  his 
bride,  passed  the  hey-day  of  the  honey-moon  in  making 
the  tour  of  the  Northern  States,  concluded  to  settle  down 
in  Quakerdom.  After  a  little  search,  he  decided  upon 


"TOO  MUCH  ALIKE!'*  121 

locating  in  one  of  a  fine  block  of  houses  in  Hansom 
street,  a  row  of  buildings  erected  within  a  few  years, 
and  uniform  in  their  architecture,  inside  and  out.  The 
whole  block  was  occupied,  with  the  exception  of  that 
chosen  by  Monsieur,  who  furnished  it  forthwith,  in  the 
most  elegant  style,  and  took  possession. 

"  I  have  come  to  Philadelphee" — said  the  French 
gentleman  (and  he  tells  his  own  story  most  eloquently, 
and  innocently)  "  I  have  come  to  ze  city  vis  my  vife, 
an'  I  likes  him  var'  mooch.  I  go  vis  my  vife  to  look 
for  ze  grande  maison  vhich  sal  please  Madame — and  ve 
find  him,  numero  two  hon'red  twenty-three,  Hansom 
street.  I  secure  him,  I  furnish  him,  a  la  mode,  ve  settil 
down,  ve  live  var'  content — eh  bien,  vot  you  sal  call 
'  comfortable' — a  V  Anglais.  I  hav'  foine  house, 
foine  compagnons,  ma  vife  var'  good — tres  bien  ! 

"  I  hav'  sometimes  ennui ; — an'  I  go  to  ze  grand 
Opera.  Mon  Dieu  !  I  listen  to  TEDESCO  !  Ah !  Mon 
sieur — zar'  be  but  une  Tedesco;  var'  foine — magni- 
fique  !  I  leave  ze  Opera,  I  come  home  to  ma  house,  ze 
garcon  open  ze  door,  I  come  in — and  I  look  for  Mad 
ame.  I  ask  '  Vere  be  Madame  ?'  Ze  servant  sai  '  Ma 
dame  retire.'  Tres  bien — it  is  right — Madame  fatigue. 
I  sit  down,  I  smoke  ma  cigare,  I  read  ze  Courier,  ze 
clock  strike  dix  heures — I  take  ze  lamp,  and  pass  to  ma 
chambre.  I  go  var'  still,  not  to  disturb  Madame,  who 
have  mooch  fatigue — I  open  ze  door,  I  place  ze  light  on 

ze  table,  I  turn  roun', MON  DIEU  !  I  foin  ze  jentle- 

man  soun*  'sleep  in  bed  vis  ma  vife. 

"  I  take  ze  jentleman  by  ze  arm,  and  I  call  to  him, 
var'  loud — < Eh  bien,  Monsieur!  vot  you  do  in  ma 
bed  ?' 


122  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

"  He  start  up  var'  mooch,  an'  he  cry  '  Tieve !  robbair ! 
murdair !  vot  you  do,  sair  ?' 

"  I  say  <  Pardonnez-moi,  monsieur,  que  diabk  you  do 
in  ma  bed !' 

"  <In  you  bed?' 

"  '  Oui,  monsieur* 

«  <No,  sair  /"  he  say — <  it  is  my  bed — and  you  are 
dam  robbair,  I  sal  call  ze  voch.' 

«  <  Monsieur' — I  say  to  him — <  it  is  not  you  bed.  It 
is  ma  bed — it  is  ma  house,  numero  two  hon'red  twen 
ty-tree,  Hansom  street — dis  is  ma  chambre,  ma  furniture, 
ma  carpet,  ma  curtain — zat  is  ma  vife  !  Vot  you  sai, 
sir,  to  zatt" 

"  He  look  at  me  var'  strange — he  sit  up  in  ma  bed 
— he  look  at  ma  vife — he  look  at  me — he  rub  his  eye — 
an'  he  get  out  on  ze  floor. 

»  <  Monsieur ,' — he  sai  to  me — <  I  beg  ten  touzan 
pardon.  I  hav'  maik  grande  mistaik.  Ma  house  is 
numero  two  hon'red  twenty^ue,  Hansom  street — an'  I 
hav'  come  into  ze  wrong  door!  Excusez-moi.  I  sal 

maik  grande  apologe  to  Madame,  on  ze  morrow 1 

hav'  maik  var1  bad  mistaik !     Bonne  nuit,  Monsieur — 
pardonnez-moi  /' 

"He  hav'  go  down  stairs,  he  have  pass  out,  I  have 
see  ze  door  lock,  fast,  myself,  and  I  retire  vis  Madame. 

"But  I  no  loik  ze  maisons,  in  vot  you  call  Han 
som  street ;  and  nex'  day  I  go  to  ze  offees  vot  you  call 
V 'intelligence,  an'  I  get  me  house  in  Rue  du  Cantone ; 
— vot  you  sal  call,  a  I* Anglais,  Canton  street — numero 
von  honored  tirty-von,  Canton  street.  I  have  move  ma 
property  from  numero  two  hon'red  twenty-tree,  Hansom 
street — vich  I  no  like,  be-gair  !  I  have  move  Madame 


"TOO  MUCH  ALIKE!"  123 

— ma  house  var'  fine — I  have  got  on  var'  well — tres 
bien. 

"  I  have  reside  at  numero  von  hon'red  tirty-von, 
Canton  street,  tree  little  veeks.  Ze  house  var"1  mooch 
aloik,  but  I  have  been  content — ze  jentleman  maik  great 
apologe  to  ma  vife,  an'  he  call  un,  deux,  trois  times  to 
make  ze  same  to  me.  I  hav'  forgot  all  about  ze  grande 
mistaik,  an'  I  go  to  ze  play  vizout  Madame. 

"  I  come  home  to  ma  house,  var'  early — Madame 
have  retire,  an'  I  go  up  ze  stairs,  not  mooch  quick,  but 
I  reach  ze  door ;  I  come  into  ma  chambre — ven,  Diable  ! 
I  find  ze  jentleman  in  ma  bed,  once  more,  twoice! 

"  I  go  to  ze  bed,  I  seize  ze  jentleman  by  ze  troat,  an' 
I  sai — <  Eh  bien,  Monsieur  !  Vot  you  do  in  ma  bed,  two 
time — vonce  more,  eh  ?' 

"He  hav'  zhump  out  on  ze  floor, — he  rub  his  eye 
var'  mooch — he  choke  var'  bad — an'  he  sai,  <  Vot  you  do 
vis  ma  troat  ?' 

"  I  ask  him,  <  Vot  you  do  in  ma  bed,  sair  ?' 

"  <  It  is  not  your  bed,  by  gair/ 

«  <  Not  ma  bed  ?' 

"  «  JVb  /  Monsieur,  it  is  my  bed.' 

"<  You  bed?  Monsieur, prenez  garde!  Is  zatyou 
bureau?  Zat  you  war'robe?  Zat  you  escritoire'} 
a-ha!  Zat  you  night-cap?  Zat  you  shirt?  Zat  you 
VIFE?  Satre — Monsieur,  you  hav'  maik  var'  bad  mis 
taik  before,  you  hav'  maik  no  mistaik  zis  time.' 

«  <  Pardonnez-moi,  Monsieur' — he  say. 

«  <  No,  sair.  You  hav'  maik  mistaik  vonce,  but  zis 
is  numero  von  hon'red  tirty-von  Canton  street,  and  not 
numero  two  hon'red  twenty-tree  Hansom  street !  Vot 
you  sai  now,  sair  ?' 


124  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  <  Excusez-moi,  Monsieur,1  he  sai,  «I  have  maik 
great  mistaik  vonce,  and  two  day  back,  I  move  from 
numero  two  hon'red  twenty-five,  Hansom  street,  to  von 
honred  tirty-Tx.E,E,  Canton  street!  I  hav'  now  maik 
mistaik  in  ze  front  door !'  He  maik  many  apologe — 
I  cink  he  have  maik  mistaik — he  put  on  ze  pantalon 
—he  bow  var'  polite — he — he  go  out  ov  ma  house, 
monsieur ! 

"  I  pack  ma  furniture  nex'  day — I  go  to  ze  Balti 
more.  Be  gair!"  continued  the  French  gentleman,  as 
he  thrust  a  monstrous  pinch  of  snuff' into  his  nostrils — 
"  I  no  like  to  live  in  zat  Philadelphee : — ze  HOUSE  TOO 
MUCH  'LOIKE,  by  dam!" 

G.  P.  B. 


A  LIVE  YANKEE  "SNORED"  OUT! 

READER — do  you  snore  in  your  sleep  ? 

You  don't1} — Well,  I  suppose  not!  I  never  yet  met 
the  individual  who  would  acknowledge  the  corn. 

Shall  I  tell  you  of  a  little  adventure  I  was  once  wit 
ness  to  with  a  (  snorer  ?' 

The  varieties  of  the  genus  «  Snorer'  are  very  extended. 
There  is  your  quiet,  sighing,  unobtrusive  snorer — who 
always  has  '  a  good  time'  at  it,  and  troubles  nobody. 
There  is  your  wheezing,  chuckling,  squeaking  snorer — 
"who  makes  a  regular  business  of  it,  but  who  keeps  it  all 
1  in  the  family,'  and,  peradventure,  annoys  only  the 
partner  of  his  joys  and  sorrows.  There  is,  also,  your 


A  LIVE  YANKEE  "  SNORED "  OUT!       125 

nasal  grumbler,  (who  sleeps  in  the  next  room!)  who 
mumbles  and  grunts — and  gets  over  it. 

But  if  there  be  under  Heaven  any  object  of  pity — one 
that  should  excite  the  sympathy  of  the  benevolently 
disposed — more  than  another,  commend  me  to  your  ge 
nuine,  out-and-out  snorer ! 

To  appreciate  his  qualities  fully — you  should  be  fa 
tigued  and  restless  yourself — after  a  three  days'  journey 
over  a  thumping  bad  road,  and  you  shall  run  athwart 
him,  where  the  steamboat  line  connects,  at  a  late  hour  in 
the  night.  You  shall  retire  to  one  of  the  few  cots  left — 
which  you  find  stretched  in  the  centre  of  the  cabin  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  last  comers — and,  after  the  dread 
ful  jolting  you  have  passed  through  for  the  previous 
twenty-four  or  forty-eight  hours,  as  the  case  may  be,  you 
shall  regale  yourself,  imaginatively  (during  the  process 
of  undressing),  with  the  prospective  enjoyment  which 
Nature's  sweet  restorer  has  in  reserve  for  you ! 

Your  weary  head  touches  the  pillow,  but  an  unusual 
nervousness  troubles  you ;  and,  despite  your  most  earnest 
endeavours,  it  is  midnight  before  you  can  compose 
yourself.  You  are  at  last  worn  out  with  tossing  and 
turning — and,  though  the  night  is  warm  and  the  vermin 
are  active — you  are  determined  to  sleep. 

For  the  last  half-hour  you  have  been  listening  to  what 
you  imagined  distant  thunder  (you  are  '  afraid  of  light 
ning'),  and,  at  the  instant  you  have  concluded  to  resign 
yourself  to  the  embrace  of  Morpheus,  your  eyes  are  sud 
denly  agape,  wide  open,  and  as  your  brow  is  slightly 
knitted,  you  involuntarily  ask  yourself,  "  What's  thatV 

In  reply  to  your  interrogatory,  a  sort  of  explosion 
takes  place — a  miniature  eruption  of  Vesuvius,  a  blast — 


126  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

"whoo 00/-J9/" — and  the  sound  rolls  away  in  a 

long-drawn,  unearthly  sigh — like  the  last  effort  of  a 
suffocating  man  to  recover  his  breath — and  all  is  silent 
again. 

In  such  a  plight,  and  at  such  a  time — some  years  ago, 
I  remember  to  have  met  a  Yankee  in  the  cabin  of  a 
crowded  canal  packet. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  he  came  on  board,  at 
Pittsburgh,  from  one  of  the  Ohio  river  steamers.  He 
was  a  very  plain  man,  and  had  been  <  out  west,'  so  he 
said — and  was  satisfied  to  go  home  again ! 

The  cabin  was  crammed,  and  an  <  upright'  was  allot 
ted  him  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  with  some  others. 
He  was  a  live  Yankee — and  occupied  some  considerable 
time  in  undressing,  securing  his  watch,  adjusting  the 
bed-clothes,  and  caring  for  his  <  tin' — which  he  stowed 
away  under  the  pillow.  He  finally  mounted  the  piece 
of  furniture,  which  some  lady- writer  compares  to  f  a 
fence-rail,  covered  with  two  strips  of  tape,'  and  stretched 
himself  out  for  the  night. 

For  a  long  time  he  tossed  uneasily  in  his  cot,  muttering 
to  himself  something  about  being  "  shelved  up  between 
heaven  and  airth" — but  he  finally  turned  over,  as  I 
supposed,  for  the  last  time — when  a  fellow  on  his  extreme 
right,  near  the  door,  who  had  evidently  been  getting 
ready  for  some  minutes — burst  out  with — 

"  Aka r-r  roo wh-e — u !" 

Had  a  thunderbolt  struck  the  Yankee  upon  the  crown, 
he  wouldn't  have  reached  the  cabin  floor  quicker  than 
he  did  as  it  was!  And  there  he  stood  ' in  his  tracks' — 
his  teeth  chattering,  his  eyes  distended,  with  both  hands 
grasping  the  side-rail  of  his  cot — as  he  yelped  out — 


A    LIVE   YANKEE   "  SNORED"    OUT!  127 


«Hel-/ow/" 
«  Phoo — o — 


The  unconscious  sleeper  was  relieved,  momentarily  — 
and  he  vouchsafed  no  answer. 

The  Yankee  gazed  about  the  cabin  cautiously  —  but 
his  fellow-lodgers  were  all  sound  asleep  apparently,  and 
the  quiet  rippling  of  the  water  against  the  sides  of  our 
frail  boat,  was  all  that  now  broke  the  silence. 

Again  he  mounted  the  cot,  and  at  the  moment  I  had 
supposed  he  had  at  last  gone  to  the  '  land  of  nod'  for 
the  night  —  another 

"  Ker-r-r  —  cthee-e  -  whoo  /"  burst  from  the  throat 
of  the  snorer  on  his  right,  who  had  now  got  the  steam 
well  up.  While  the  stranger  started  up  to  look  for  the 
cause  —  a 

"Per  —  shee  -  swelu  —  ooh,"  escaped  the  grunter, 
and  our  Yankee  could  contain  himself  no  longer.  With 
one  bound  he  sprang  to  the  floor  —  with 

«  He\-low  —  I  say  -  " 

«  Ah—  phoo  !" 

"Thunder  and  airthquakes  !"  — 

«Wh—  e—  w!" 

"Wot  is  it?"  - 

"  Ar-ker-ker  -  sloo  —  oo"  — 


cc  'Tchoo  -  " 

"  No,  it  ain't  me  -  " 

«  Er  —  y  —  heu  !" 

"  Blast  your  pictur  —  it  ain't  /"— 

c<  Ah  -  tish  /" 

"  I  say  yer  lie  /' 


128  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

«  Er — a — hoo  ! " 

« Wy,  it's  you — yerself,"  continued  the  Yankee, 
approaching  him  cautiously — "  and  yer've  made  noise 
enough  to  skeer  the  divil,  or  stop  a  camp-meet'n  !" 

As  he  placed  his  hand  upon  the  snorer's  breast,  a 
sudden  "  whoof!"  escaped  him,  and  the  Yankee  could 
bear  no  more ! 

"Help,  yere!" 

"  Pshe — eu !" — said  the  snorer. 

"Do/" 

"  Ah — shwoo " 

«  For  God's  sake !" 

"  Hup kir " 

"  Cap'n — help — yere!  The  man's  a  dyin' — I  say, 
Mister  ! — Murder ! — help !" 

By  this  time  the  cabin  was  in  a  roar — for  the  scene  in 
its  early  stages  had  awakened  most  of  the  crowd,  who 
had  enjoyed  it  right  heartily.  The  snorer  turned  over 
suddenly  upon  his  side,  and  the  effect  awakened  him. 

"What's  the  row,  neighbour?"  he  inquired  of  the 
Yankee,  who  stood  over  him  with  a  light. 

"Raowt  Thunder  and  lightnin'! — ain't  yer  dead 
yit !  Wai,  I  reck'n  you're  one  uv  'em,  stranger !  Mishi- 
gan  thunder's  a  fool  to  yur'e  snorin' — by  grashus !  Ef 
I  sleep  in  this  yere  coop  to-night,  cuss  my  pictur!"  he 
added — and,  in  spite  of  all  the  captain's  assurances,  he 
went  out  upon  the  deck,  where  he  lay  till  morning. 

At  daylight  he  landed — and,  as  he  parted  with  the 
captain,  he  declared  that  he  had  "  heern  powerful  thun 
der  in  his  time,  but  that  chap's  snoring  beat  all  the 
high-pressures  he  ever  heerd — jest  as  easy  as  open  and 
shet!' 

G.  P.  B. 


"WOBOT  BARWYMAW." 

AN   ELECTION-DAY   SCENE,    IN    BOSTON. 

THE  annual  election  for  city  officials  occurred  in  the 
good  city  of  Boston,  on  Monday.  There  were  no  less 
than  '  six  Richmonds  in  the  field,'  on  this  occasion,  and 
the  prospect  appeared  promising — at  noon — that  before 
sunset,  a  Mayor  and  Common  Council  would  be  elect 
ed  for  the  current  political  year,  provided  they  didn't 
miss  it.  If  not  instructive,  it  was  at  least  amusing  to  be 
present  an  hour  at  the  polls.  Take  an  example. 

A  quiet-looking,  decent  enough  kind  of  man  ap 
proaches  the  door  of  one  of  the  Ward  rooms.  He  is 
clumsily  dressed,  it  is  true,  and  is  evidently  a  stranger 
in  these  parts.  His  antiquated  suit  and  apparent  inno 
cence  of  the  existence  of  such  an  article  of  wearing 
apparel  as  a  pair  of  boots — his  long-tailed  and  longer- 
sleeved  <blue,'  his  low-crowned  'felt' — all  indicated 
plainly  that  he  wasn't  <  bred  in  the  town.'  He  sees  the 
crowd  and  steps  over  the  way.  Some  half-a-score  of 
worthies  are  watching  him,  and  a  rush  is  made  as  he 
arrives  near  the  door. 

"  Fresh  water  ticket,  sir?"  bawls  a  vote  distributor, 
m  a  greasy  coat  and  slouched  hat,  who  looks  for  all  the 
world  as  if  he  hadn't  been  within  hailing  distance  of 
any  water — fresh  or  foul — for  a  quarter  of  a  century. 

"  Cold  water  ticket,  sir?" inquires  a  one-eyed  man, 
who  sports  a  particularly  red  nose  below  it. 


130  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Native  American,  sir  ?"  cries  a  third. 

"  Regular  Whig  ticket  ?"  asks  another ;  «  that's  your 
time  o'day,  sir !  No  malgamashin  in  that  ere ;  Regular 
Whig." 

"Abolition,  sir?"  asks  a  fifth. 

"  Democrathic — rigelar  ?"  shouts  another. — "  No  bi- 
tin'  the  thum'  at  that,  sure.  Be  the  powers  !  but  we'll 
be  afther  hevin'  the  man  as'll  purtect  the  janeous  of 
liberthy,  and  the  rights  o'  the  paple,  at  large — and  none 
o'  your  spalpeens  as  'ul  be  gitting  up  a  row  agin  natre- 
lezashin — sure !" 

"  Whig,  sir?"  continues  number  four. 

"  Democrath,"  says  number  six,  again. 

"  Get  out,  with  your  d — d  loco," 

"  Who  dug  you  up  ?    I'll  prove  to  ye's ' 

«  This  is  the  ticket,  sir !" 

"Which?" 

"The  Regular  Wh " 

"No,  it  ain't!" 

"  I  knows  what  I " 

"  No,  you  don't." 

"  I  go  for  equal  ri ." 


"  You're  a  mongrel." 
"A  what?" 

"  A  half  and  a  ha " 

"  Where's  BUI  Smashem  ?" 
"  Here !"  answers  BUI. 


"  You're  a  fool." 

"  You're  a  liar" whack! — away  rolls  number  four 

across  the  street,  and  the  l  Regular'  tickets  are  scattered 
gratis  to  the  multitude.  While  the  sufferer  is  endeavour 
ing  to  gather  himself  up,  his  hat  is  caught  up  by  the  wind, 


"WOBOT   BARRYMAW."  131 

and  by  this  time  is  bounding  away  at  a  good  round 
seven-knot  rate,  our  country  friend  behind,  pursuing  it 
in  full  cry.  The  beaver  strikes  a  gas  post — Gawky 
makes  a  dive  for  it,  but  misses  the  hat,  crushes  the  crown 
of  his  own,  and  at  the  same  instant  nearly  dashes  out 
what  little  brains  he  has.  The  flying  hat  scuds  round 
the  corner,  and  Greeny,  nothing  daunted,  scuds  after 
it.  Away  goes  the  beaver — and  away  goes  Verdant — 
but — he  has  it  now !  No,  he  hasn't — that  sidewalk  is 
very  slippery — but  Gawky  overtakes  the  hat,  and  urging 
himself  forward,  he  makes  one  desperate  effort  to  gain 
the  prize,  his  heels  unfortunately  go  up,  his  head  goes 
down,  the  hat  lodges  against  an  awning-post — and 
Verdant  finds  himself  plunged  head  foremost  into  an 
oyster  cellar ! 

"  "What  the  devil's  cumin  ?"  shouts  the  oyster  vender. 

"  Whew  /"  replies  Greeny. 

"You're  drunk,"  continues  {  shell  fish.' 

"  0  no,  I  hain't,"  gasps  the  victim — half  stunned  and 
staggering  from  the  shock. 

"  Yis,  you  air — you  can't  stan'  straight,  now !" 

"  Guess  he's  hurt,"  ventures  the  attendant. 

"  Hold  yer  yawp,  spoony — who  axed  you  any  ques 
tions  ?" 

« I'm  wurwid  in  my  'ed,"  says  Greeny. 

«  Wurrid  in  yer  'ed  ?  So  I  shud  think.  Get  out  o' 
this." 

"  Don't  hurwy,  if  you  please.     You  see  I've — " 

"  Git  out,  I  say — you're  drunk" — and  the  unfortunate 
is  forthwith  ejected. 

Partially  recovered,  Verdant  grasps  the  hat,  and  re 
turns  triumphantly  to  the  Ward  room.  The  owner  is 


132  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

foaming  with  rage  and  fury  (having  come  out  second 
best  in  the  meke),  and  discovering  Greeny  with  his  hat, 
he  looks  upon  him  as  the  prime  cause  of  the  trouble, 
and  as  the  former  hands  him  his  beaver,  without  more 
ado  he  tenders  him  a  polk  in  the  eye,  which  lays  him 
sprawling  in  the  gutter.  By  this  time,  the  mischief 
having  all  been  done — an  officer  arrives,  and  the  parties 
are  forthwith  conveyed  to  the  Police  Court.  The  com 
plaint  is  made  in  due  form,  for  a  disturbance  of  the 
peace,  and  our  unlucky  friend  'with  the  lame  eye'  is 
placed  in  the  witness  box. 

« Name?"  inquires  the  clerk. 

"  Sir  ?"  says  the  countryman — wiping  his  eye. 

"  Your  name,  sir  ?" 

"Name ?  oh !     Wobot  Barwymaw." 

«  Wwtf,  sir?" 

"Wobot  Barwymaw." 

"  Wobot  Barwymaw  ?  No  trifling,  sir !  How  do  you 
spell  it  ?" 

"  R-O-B — Wob — E-R-T  Wobot — B-A-R-R-Y  Barwy — 
M-O-R-E — Barwymaw.  Wobot  Barwymaw." 

"  Ah !  yes — I  see — Robert  Barrymore.  You  have 
an  impediment  in  your  speech  ?" 

"Yes,  sir.'; 

"  What's  the  reason  you  don't  speak  intelligibly  ?" 
asked  tke  court. 

"  The  weason  is  appawent — I  can't." 

"  What's  the  occasion  of  it  ? 

«  Can't  say,  sir.     It's  herweditawy." 

"  Well,  sir — go  on  now  with  your  story." 

"  Wot  stowy  ?"  innocently  inquired  the  witness. 

"What  story!  Do  you  know,  sir,  that  this  is  a 
Court  of  Justice  ?  What  are  YOU  in  the  witness  box  for  ?'* 


«  WOBOT   BARWYMAW."  133 

"  I  weally  can't  say,  sir.  I'm  a  stwanger  here — and, 
as  I  was  stwolling  down  the  stweet,  I  met  a  cwowd 
wound  the  Ward-woom,  as  they  call  it — and  cwossed 
over  to  see  what  the  wow  was.  As  I  appwoached  the 
door,  I  saw  a  big  wuffian  stwike  a  man  in  the  face, 
and  knock  him  down.  His  hat  fell  off,  and  I  wun  to 
catch  it." 

"  It  is  of  no  consequence  about  that  affair — how  did 
you  get  injured  ?" 

«  The  consequence  of  it  might  have  been  sewious, 
I  think — for  the  hat  blew  wound  the  corner — and  I  wun 
after  it.  The  city  authowities  might  have  had  to  we- 
munewate  me  for  a  bwoken  skull — for  the  sidewalk  was 
so  slippewy  that  I  twipped  over,  and  wushed  headlong 
into  an  oysterman's  store." 

"  Did  you  receive  your  bruise  in  that  fall,  sir?" 

"Bless  your  innocence,  no!  I  weturned  with  the 
wefwactowy  gentleman's  hat,  and  as  I  appwoached  to 
pwesent  it  to  him,  'That's  my  man!'  says  he,  and 
without  further  cerwemony,  I  weceived  for  my  twouble 
this  horwid  black  eye.* 

«  Well,  sir." 

"  Well,  sir!  But  I  do  not  agwee  with  you  that  it  is 
'well,  sir.'  This  bwoosing  a  man  for  such  a  act  of 
disinterwested  fwiendship,  may  be  customawy  in  Boston, 
but  it  is  not  of  common  occurwence  in  Bwattlebowough, 
where  I  come  fwom." 

« Is  that  all,  sir?" 

"  I  don't  so  much  mind  the  bwoosing,  as  I  do  the 
wowdy's  pwinciple  in  this  twansaction;  and  it's  my  pwi- 
vate  opinion  that  the  bwute  ought  to  be  stwung  up  for 
his  wefwactowy  and  unchwistian-like  wuffianism." 


134  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

The  court  smiled  at  our  friend's  innocence — im 
posed  a  fine  upon  the  belligerent,  and  the  parties  left 
the  court. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  Mr.  <  Wobot  Barwymaw' 
was  discovered  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  his  head 
enveloped  in  a  huge  bandanna — inquiring  if  there  was 
any  "wail-woad  which  wun  from  Boston  to  Bwattle- 
bowough !" 

G.  P.  B. 


A  GAME  AT  "SEVEN-UP." 

"  TAKE  a  drink,  stranger?" — inquired  a  diminutive, 
gray-eyed  individual,  addressing  himself  to  me,  as  we 
sat  at  a  centre-table  in  the  cabin  of  a  Lake  steamer.  He 
continued  doggedly  to  stir  the  punch  which  the  steward 
had  just  handed  him,  and  repeated  his  invitation. — I 
declined. 

Having  disposed  of  a  second  '  smasher,'  he  tried  me 
again. 

"Busy,  stranger?" 

I  moved  to  him. 

"  Take  a  hand  at  seven-up,  sir?' 

I  assented  to  this  proposition,  to  kill  a  dreary  hour  or 
so,  and  my  challenger  immediately  drew  from  his  coat- 
pocket  the  necessary  documents  for  a  bout  at '  old  sledge.' 
He  had  evidently  calculated  upon  '  pigeoning'  me,  and 
plainly  supposing  me  verdant,  he  coolly  deposited  under 


A    GAME    AT    "  SEVEN-UP."  135 

the  candlestick,  a  five-dollar  note  upon  one  of  the 
Western  <  Wild- Cat*  institutions.  I  immediately  co 
vered  it  with  a  V  upon  the  <  Lumbermans*  Bank, 
which  some  blackguard  or  other  had  put  upon  me,  in 
my  travels,  for  a  good  one.  The  cards  were  dealt,  a 
brace  of  hands  were  played,  and  I  won  his  <  Red  Dog' 
hinplaster. 

"  Double  it,  stranger?" 

"  As  you  please" — said  I,  carelessly — and  he  placed 
a  very  respectable-looking  X  upon  the  stakes. 

I  held  the  ace,  deuce,  and  ten  of  trumps,  and  my  lead 
drew  his  knave,  which  he  boarded  with  a  simultaneous 
call  upon  somebody  to  "  d — n  such  luck,"  and  upon 
the  steward  to  bring  him  another  punch ! 

In  the  next  hand,  I  made  three  points,  and  beat  the 
game.  I  moved  towards  the  money,  but  he  prevented 
my  raising  it,  by  covering  it  with  a  twenty-spot,  where 
upon  he  gulped  down  the  balance  of  his  third  punch, 
and  dealt  the  cards  again. 

The  liquor  by  this  time  had  commenced  to  operate 
upon  his  irritability,  and  I  soon  discovered  him  to  be  a 
pugnacious  customer.  I  had  seen  ugly  little  men  before, 
however,  and  being  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the 
game,  having  nothing  at  stake,  and  contriving  to  keep 
perfectly  cool,  thus  far  I  had  my  gentleman  at  odds. 

I  was  in  luck!  I  held  all  the  cards,  and  made  four 
points.  In  the  second  hand  of  the  third  game,  I  made 
high,  low,  game,  and  <  skunked'  him,  outright,  again. 

The  play  had  now  become  somewhat  interesting — 
several  spectators  had  gathered  around  the  table.  My 
opponent  insisted  that  the  money  should  lie,  and  he 
counted  out  his  forty  dollars.  He  was  getting  excited. 


136  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

The  fourth  round  was  more  fluctuating.  I  had  made 
but  three  points,  my  adversary  five.  He  dealt  me  an 
excellent  hand,  upon  which  I  'begged,'  however;  be 
cause,  as  he  turned  his  cards,  he  volunteered  the  remark 
"  that  he  would  fix  me,  this  time !" 

"  Give  you  one — by  G — !" 

"  That  scores  me  four," — I  added  quietly. 

«  Four  to  my  five,"  he  answered.  "  Steward !  an 
other  punch  on  this !" 

He  held  the  queen,  knave,  and  five  of  trumps.  I  led 
a  low  side-card,  upon  which  he  placed  a  ten  '  for  game.' 
He  returned  with  an  ace,  which  I  gave  him.  He 
<  swung'  with  his  queen,  which  I  took  with  my  king, 
and  following  with  my  ace  of  trumps,  I  had  his  knave 
again !  I  played  the  four  for  <  low,'  which  scored  me 
three  upon  this  hand,  and  gift  made  me  seven — to  his 
score  and  <  game,'  which  counted  him  but  six  ! 

As  he  dashed  his  fist  violently  upon  the  table  with  a 

«d n!"I  again  moved  towards  the  'pile,'  which 

had  now  swelled  to  eighty  dollars — most  of  which  was 
in  good  money — but  he  motioned  me  back  with — 

"  Once  more,  if  you  please,  by  G — ,  stranger!" 

"  Have  it  your  own  way,"  I  replied,  and  he  planked 
his  eighty  dollars  on  the  other,  which  was  snugly  stowed 
beneath  the  foot  of  the  candlestick. 

Again  the  cards  were  dealt,  and  in  the  first  hand,  he 
made  three  points,  to  my  gift.  Three  vs.  one,  was  duly 
scored,  the  papers  went  round  again,  and  the  result  was 
'  four  hand.'  We  played  another  round,  upon  which  I 
was  doing  famously,  when  a  misdeal  was  discovered.  I 
humoured  him  (though  there  was  foul  play,  and  I  knew 
it),  the  cards  were  stocked,  and  the  deal  was  passed.  I 


A   GAME   OF   "SEVEN-UP."  137 

cut  the  cards,  and  my  antagonist  (who  by  this  time  had 
become  especially  stupid  and  particularly  ugly)  shuffled 
them  in  the  clumsiest  possible  manner. 

We  stood  four  and  four.  I  held  a  hand  to  be  played 
for  a  man's  life, — the  ace,  queen,  knave,  and  deuce  of 
trumps !  I  forthwith  played  the  deuce — which  '  played 
the  deuce'  with  my  thick-headed  friend — for  he  couldn't 
follow  suit ! 

«  That's  High  and  Low— by  G — ,  for  all  me !"  he 
muttered,  as  I  gave  him  the  ace  of  another  suit,  and 
followed  it  with  the  queen.  The  game  was  up — I  held 
everything — never  was  there  such  <  a  run  of  luck !' 

I  ushered  my  queen — followed  her  with  the  knave — 
and  then  boarded  the  ace  of  trumps — to  which  last  card 
my  opponent  did  not  answer. 

"  Another  mis — deal" — said  he,  slowly,  «  by  G — !" 

«  Not  too  fast,  my  friend,"  I  answered,  "  you  had  six 
cards." 

"  I  say  there's  an — other  misdeal — 'ic — stranger." 

"  You  are  mistaken,  sir.  There  is  your  sixth  card, 
tinder  the  table." 

"  Do  you  say — that's  my  card?" 

« I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  of  it." 

«  Who  in put  it  there  ?" — continued  the  ugly 

devil. 

"  Can't  say —  upon  my  soul — but  play  it  if  you 
please." 

"  Do  you  say  Iput  it  there  ?"  said  the  fellow,  refusing 
to  take  it  up — and  at  the  same  time  leisurely  rolling  up 
his  coat-cuffs. 

"  You  must  have  dropped  it,"  I  suggested. 

"  Do  you  say — 'ic — Iput  it  there?" 
i 


138  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

I  could  bear  with  this  no  longer,  and  hastily  calculating 
my  chances  for  being  worsted,  I  laid  my  left  hand  upon 
the  money,  and  with  my  right,  I  seized  him  by  the  fore- 
top,  across  the  table,  as  he  attempted  to  rise  at  the  other 
side.  A  dirk-knife  gleamed  an  instant  in  the  light,  but 
with  a  sudden  effort,  I  brought  his  head  in  contact  with 
the  mahogany,  which  bewildered  him  while  I  wrenched 
the  dagger  from  his  hand  and  secured  I 'argent.  The 

next  moment,  I  heard  the  rough  voice  of  Jack  W ff, 

the  first  officer  of  the  boat,  who  had  been  apprised  of 
the  rumpus,  below. 

As  the  blackleg  arose  upon  me,  Jack  tendered  him 
a  feeler,  under  the  ear,  which  sent  him  reeling  heels 
over  head  into  a  state-room  hard  by,  with  "  There,  d — n 
you,  take  that,  and  go  to  bed  ;  you're  eternally  kicking 
up  a  muss  with  somebody  !"  and  turning  the  key  upon 
the  outside  of  the  door,  he  added — "past  twelve,  gen 
tlemen — no  more  cards  to-night,  if  you  please" — and 
he  left  the  cabin. 

We  arrived  at  C d  before  daybreak,  where  I  left 

the  boat;  since  which  time  I  have  not  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  my  friend  who  was  so  excessively  fond  of 
the  <  GAME  OF  SEVEN-UP.* 

G.  P.  B. 


THE  YANKEE  WHO  HAD  NEVER  HEARD  A 
GONG. 

MANY  a  good  story  is  recorded,  about  the  first  im 
pressions  consequent  upon  hearing  the  clang  of  a  gong. 
An  instance  recently  came  under  my  own  observation. 

A  traveller  from  <  up  country'  arrived  in  town  the 
other  evening,  and  having  been  shown  to  a  fashionable 
hotel  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  was  at  a  loss  for 
employment  for  the  time  being.  He  reached  the  house 
after  tea  hour,  and  having  wandered  through  the  public 
rooms,  enjoying  the  '  sights'  for  a  while,  he  was  at  last 
shown  to  his  apartment,  at  a  very  seasonable  hour. 

Having  bestowed  himself  between  the  blankets,  he 
lay  tossing  about  for  an  hour,  excited  with  the  city's 
confusion,  and  being  naturally  nervous,  he  was  unable 
to  compose  himself  to  sleep.  Nature  gave  way  at  last, 
however ;  and  as  he  was  just  falling  into  a  fitful  slumber,  a 
low,  rumbling,  unearthly  sound  grated  on  his  ears  (ap 
parently  from  the  end  of  the  passage-way),  which 
gradually  increased  to  a  fearful  and  indescribable  hum. 

The  eyes  of  the  stranger  were  agape,  instanter — his 
gaze  was  fixed  upon  the  ceiling — the  dreadful  murmur  in 
creased — big  sweat-drops  stood  on  his  forehead — and 
the  final  crash  of  the  preparatory  supper-gong  brought 
him  straight  into  his  boots !  He  rushed  into  the  desert 
ed  passage-way  with  his  pants  halfway  on,  and  upside 
down,  shouting  at  the  top  of  his  lungs — 


140  STRAY   SUBJiC3TS. 

«  Hel-lo,  there !" 

The  sound  echoed  through  the  hall,  but  no  mswer 
followed, 
w      «  HeWo,  I  say !     Wot  on  airth  has  busted  ?" 

All  was  silent,  however,  and  an  immeasurably  brief 
space  of  time  only  had  elapsed,  before  the  countryman 
had  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  where  he  made  his 
appearance  with  hair  straight  on  end,  his  boots  over  his 
pants,  and  his  short- waisted,  swallow-tailed  blue  catch- 
ed  at  the  throat  by  a  single  button. 

He  dashed  into  the  office,  but  all  was  quiet — the  clerk 
was  at  his  books,  and  the  darkies  had  got  away  into  the 
corners,  to  steal  a  nap  before  the  arrival  of  the  night 
train.  Our  green  'un  spied  Sambo,  and  soon  had  him 
by  the  button-hole,  with — 

"  Wot's  that  noise?'' 

"  Didn't  hear  no  noise,  Massa." 

"Didn't  hear  it?" 

"  Neber  heern  him,  wohow,  Massa!" 

"  Why,  wot  on  airth  yer  made  uv?" 

Sambo  was  snoring  again. 

"It  was  wus'n  forty  harricanes,"  continued  Greeny. 

"  'is — Massa" — continued  Sambo,  in  his  dream. 

"  And  ef  we  don't  have  a  she  wer  arter  that,  I  ain't  no 
judge  o'  thunder." 

Sambo  recovered,  and  turning  up  the  white  of  one 
eye,  astronomically,  he  vouchsafed  the  opinion  that  as 
it  was  "  a  clar  night,"  there  couldn't  be  no  funder." 

«  Wai,  but  I  heered  it,  I  tell  ye—" 

"Not  funder,  Massa — clar  moonlight — noff'n  to 
make  him  ob  up  dar,for  sartin!" 

"  Wai,  you  may  think  I'm  drunk.  But  I  tell  you  I 
heern  an  airthquake,  any  how — and " 


THE  YANKEE  AND  THE  GONG.         141 

A  faint  rumbling  was  again  apparent  in  the  distance 
at  this  moment. 

"There  it  is  agin!"  shouted  the  countryman,  as  he 
seized  Sambo  by  the  arm.  "There ! — d'ye  hear  that  ?" 

The  noise  continued  to  increase,  and  Sambo,  for 
getting  his  wonted  gravity,  began  to  grin. 

"  Wot  is  it — eh  ?  Say,  Sambo — yere's  a  quarter — 
a  half" — (Sambo  pocketed  the  tin!) — "Oh!  the  Lord 
ha'  mercy!" 

And  away  rushed  our  victim  at  top  speed ;  but  un 
fortunately,  he  entered  the  passage-way,  where  the 
servant  stood  in  the  act  of  sounding  the  last  gong  for 
supper!  The  hotel  was  full,  and  the  guests  were 
crowding  towards  the  dining-room. 

Our  valiant  Yankee  had  started  for  '  out-doors,'  but 
in  attempting  to  escape,  he  stumbled  upon  the  music, 
which  had  now  reached  that  horrible  din,  so  uncomfort 
able  to  the  ears  of  those  even  who  are  used  to  it.  With 
one  bound  and  a  shriek  of  " Murder!"  he  cleared  both 
waiter  and  gong,  and  the  next  leap  carried  him,  heels 
over  head,  through  the  basement  window.  Fortunately, 
he  was  unhurt,  and  rolling  across  the  gutter,  he  regained 
his  feet  once  more. 

The  speed  with  which  he  enlarged  the  distance  be 
tween  himself  and  that  hotel,  would  have  shamed  one 
of  Norris's  best  locomotives !  The  last  that  was  seen  of 
the  sufferer,  he  was  rapidly  approaching  the  dock,  his 
narrow  coat-skirts  streaming  in  the  wind,  with  the  watch 
in  hot  pursuit — while  the  victim  made  night  hideous 
as  he  went  on,  with  his  desperate  yell  of  "Murder! 
murder!  MURDER!" 

G.  P.  B. 


ONE  WAY  TO  SHARPEN  'EM. 

He  secretly 

Puts  pirate's  colours  out  at  both  our  sterns, 
That  we  might  fight  each  other  in  mistake, 
That  he  should  share  the  ruin  of  us  both  ! 

Crown's  Ambitious  Statesman. 

SOME  benevolently  disposed  individuals  have  latterly 
amused  themselves  with  severing  the  Telegraphic  wires, 
upon  the  arrival  of  the  English  steamers.  The  follow 
ing  sketch  is  respectfully  commended  to  the  especial 
attention  of  these  gentlemen !  The  occurrence  related 
took  place  last  fall,  in  one  of  our  Western  cities. 

The  mercantile  community  there  had  been  on  the  qui 
vive  for  a  week,  expecting  daily  to  hear  of  the  arrival  of 
the  steamer,  which  had  been  out  considerably  beyond 
her  time.  At  the  last  arrival  from  England,  flour  had 
1  moved  up'  sharply  in  price — all  the  horrors  attendant 
upon  <  potato  disease,'  <  short  crops,'  <  lack  of  American 
produce,'  etc.,  etc.,  had  been  duly  chronicled — and  the 
commercial  appetite  was  in  a  state  to  swallow  anything 
that  might  follow,  leaving  time  to  digest  it  for  them ! 
Every  mail  was  consequently  looked  for  with  the  deep 
est  anxiety :  and  every  arrival  in  town  was  the  occasion 
for  renewed  interrogatories,  touching  the  probable  char 
acter  of  the  news  anticipated.  Expectation  was  on  tip 
toe,  every  eye  was  <  opened  tight,'  and  every  ear  wai 
ready  to  catch  the  first  intelligence  which  might  come, 
when  early  one  morning,  a  rough-looking  customer  sud- 


ONE  WAY   TO    SHARPEN    'EM.  143 

denly  entered  the  town  at  full  gallop,  upon  a  jaded 
horse  (which  had  evidently  been  rowelled  to  the  top  of 
his  speed  for  a  long  distance).  He  drew  up  abruptly  in 
front  of  a  well-known  hotel  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city, 
sprang  from  his  saddle,  dropped  a  silver  dollar  into  the 
hands  of  the  ready  waiter  who  received  the  rein,  and 
disappeared  inside  the  house.  His  reeking  and  panting 
animal  was  left  in  his  tracks,  while  the  stranger  darted 
into  the  hotel,  and  booked  himself  "JoHN  SMITH — 
Wheeling,  Fa." 

Mr.  Smith  had  no  luggage  with  him — not  even  a 
<  carpet-bag.'  His  mud-bespattered  dress  told  full  well 
of  the  l  night  he'd  had  of  it,'  and  he  hastily  informed 
the  landlord,  in  a  confidential  way,  that  the  "  steamer 
was  in,"  that  "  he  had  ridden  two  hundred  miles  on 
horseback,  in  the  last  twelve  hours" — and  concluded 
his  brief  account  of  himself  by  adding  with  a  knowing 
wink,  that  "  no  other  journal  had  the  news !"  Mr. 
Smith  requested  that  his  crittur  might  be  cared  for,  and 
well  rubbed,  for  he  had  "  had  a  desperate  ride,"  and, 
gulping  down  a  cobler,  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

The  announcement  of  the  steamer's  arrival,  of  course, 
ran  like  wildfire  through  the  city  ;  and  everybody  knew 
that  an  <  express'  had  reached  town  with  her  news — but 
no  one  could  get  at  it !  Mr.  Smith  walked  straight  into 
the  flour  market,  but  the  sharpers  had  heard  of  his 
coming! 

"  What's  the  price  of  flour?"  asked  Mr.  Smith,  of  an 
extensive  dealer. 

"  Five  dollars — last  night,  sir." 

"  They  say  the  steamer's  in,"  says  Smith. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  seller. 


144  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

«  And  flour's  riz  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  I  want  a  thousand  barrels." 

"  At  what  price  ?" 

"  Say  five  and  an  eighth." 

"  You  can't  have  it." 

"  Five  and  a  quarter,  then." 

"No,  sir!" 

"  Well,  then,  five  and  three-eighths." 

«  JVb,  sir-ee  /" 

"  I'll  give  you  five  and  a  half — a  thousand  barrels — 
cash  down." 

11  JVb,  sir — I  shall  wait  a  while." 

Away  goes  Smith,  down  the  street — the  dealer  goes 
into  the  market — flour  rises  half  a  dollar — a  dollar — 
a  dollar  and  a  quarter  per  barrel — but  still  the  knowin* 
'uns  '  hold  on !' 

"  Did  you  see  him  ?" 

"  Who  ?" 

"  Smith." 

"What  Smith?" 

u  John " 

"  The  <  Express'  ?" 

"Yes." 

«No!" 

"  Just  arrived." 

"Well?" 

«  Steamer's  in." 

«  What  news  ?" 

"  Flour's  up" 

"Good!" 

"Potatoes  all  gone." 

"  Better  !" 


ONE   WAY   TO   SHARPEN    JEM.  145 

"No  American  produce  t'other  side." 

«BEST!!"  and  off  goes  'gulled  No.  2,'  to  give  his 
friends  the  benefit  of  what  he  has  learnt ! 

Smith  enters  a  store  below,  buys  five  hundred  barrels, 
at  five  dollars,  deliverable  in  one  hour,  five  hundred,  at 
same  price,  deliverable  in  two  hours,  five  hundred  de 
liverable  after  one  o'clock — takes  his  bills,  with  the 
agreement  attached — and  slopes. 

"  There  he  goes." 

"Who?" 

«  Smith." 

"The  Express?" 

"Yes." 

"Where?" 

"There!" 

"  Which  one  ?" 

«  The  white  hat " 

"  Round  the  corner  ?" 

«  Yes !"  and  away  runs  <  gulled  No.  3,'  to  learn  from 
Mr.  Smith  how  he  can  '  operate'  to  the  best  advantage. 
Mr.  Smith  happens  to  know  of  a  <  capital  chance,'  (all 
confidential  though),  where  he  can  buy  a  thousand  bar 
rels,  at  six  dollars — very  happy  to  accommodate  him ; 
will  step  right  over  the  way,  (nothing  to  be  said  about 

it  however) and  '  gulled  No.  3'  buys  Mr.  Smith's 

flour,  pays  him  his  bonus,  they  take  a  drink,  and  part 
the  very  best  friends  in  the  world.  Catch  <  No.  3'  nap 
ping,  if  you  can !  He's  one  of  'em,  and  has  been  there ! 
He  meets  <  No.  2,'  and  a  nice  talk  they  have  over  their 
luck! 

But  the  hubbub  increases !  Mr.  Smith  hasn't  been 
seen  for  an  hour,  and  another  man,  in  a  light  gray  suit, 


146  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

with  heavy  black  whiskers  and  a  slouched  cap,  has  arri 
ved  from  the  Eastward,  bringing  a  slip  headed  "New 
York  Herald — Extra."  He  is  covered  with  dirt,  though 
• — and  an  '  enterprising  journal'  nabs  him,  and  secures 
the  important  intelligence,  in  advance  of  all  its  cotempo- 
raries.  The  journal  aforesaid  « spares  no  expense'  in 
this  sort  of  thing,  and  the  last  comer  has  got  his  hundred 
dollars  for  that  job  ! 

A  flaring  '  EXTRA'  immediately  finds  its  way  into  the 
streets,  announcing  the 

ARRIVAL  OF  THE  STEAMER 
HIGHLY  IMPORTANT!! 

SCARCITY  OF  FLOUR1. 
NO  POTATOES  IN  IRELAND1. 

CORN  IN  DEMAND! 
COTTON  ADVANCING!! 

And  long  before  the  hour  for  delivery  agreed  upon  ar 
rives,  our  Express  has  sold  out  at  a  clean  profit  of  a 
thousand  dollars !  Not  a  barrel  of  flour  can  be  had  at 
anything  like  a  price,  and  our  dealers  {No.  1'  still 
4  hold  on'  for  higher  rates. 

Mr.  Smith  has  pressing  engagements,  «  No.  3'  dines 
with  him,  and  insists  upon  paying  Smith's  bill,  (in  con 
sideration  of  the  great  service  he  has  rendered  him!) 
and,  shortly  after,  Mr.  Smith  is  seen  riding  briskly  out 
of  town  on  his  way  to  Louisville. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  mail  arrives,  and  the 
details  of  the  « news  brought  by  the  steamer'  appear  in 
all  the  Eastern  journals.  Unfortunately,  the  boot  is  on 
the  wrong  leg !  Upon  examination  of  the  papers,  the 
story  is  told !  Flour  had  actually  fallen  in  price  from 


NEWSPAPER    ADVERTISEMENTS.  147 

last  quotations,  the  <  potato  rot'  had  been  greatly  exag 
gerated,  the  English  market  was  well  stocked  with 
American  produce,  sales  were  very  light,  and  the  de 
mand  inactive ! 

But  the  thing  was  up !  Mr.  Smith  was  a  ( Diddler,' 
the  slips  were  manufactured  a  few  miles  out  of  town, 
express-\y  for  the  purpose,  the  first  and  second  '  Ex 
press'  were  the  same — barring  the  change  of  chapeau, 
breeches  and  whiskers, — but  the  {  bird'  had  flown  !  Our 
enterprising  journal,  which  had  purchased  the  news,  in 
company  with  its  sharp  friends,  had  been  skewered; 
their  competitors  enjoyed  the  hoax  right  heartily,  and  to 
this  day,  upon  the  arrival  of  an  Express  rider  in  the  city 

of  C ,  you  may  hear  the  questions  repeated  from 

a  hundred  mouths — "Does  he  wear  a  slouched  cop?" 
or,  «  Did  he  come  without  A  CARPET-BAG?" 

G.  P.  B. 


NEWSPAPER  ADVERTISEMENTS. 

A  NEWSPAPER  reader  who  regularly  consults  the  adver 
tising  columns  of  a  daily  journal,  rarely  fails  to  meet 
with  many  things  conducive  both  to  his  advantage  and 
enjoyment.  Guided  by  unerring  faith,  he  will  there 
find  a  remedy  for  almost  every  ill  that  flesh  is  heir  to, 
and  encouraging  examples  held  out  of  human  beings 
who  have  been  almost  entirely  used  up,  and  yet  restored 
to  perfect  health  by  the  use  of  only  six  bottles  of  the 
celebrated  Dr.  Gullem's  Vegetable  Anti-Mercurial  Ca- 
tholicon.  Among  these,  he  will  read  of  the  '  Celebrated 


148  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

Sufferer'  who  '  laboured  under  a  complication  of  all  the 
disorders  known  to  the  Medical  Faculty,'  and  <who 
was  reduced  to  such  a  state  as  to  be  loathsome  to  his 
friends  and  disgusting  to  himself,' — 'who  had  been 
measured  for  a  coffin,  and  purchased  a  resting-place  in 
Mount  Auburn' — and  who,  <  by  simply  inhaling  the 
odour  of  one  of  Dr.  Van  Humbug's  bottles  of  Antiseptic 
Elixir,  was  instantaneously  restored  to  perfect  health,' 
and  '  became  in  one  fortnight  the  ornament  of  the  social 
circle  and  the  happy  husband  of  one  of  the  most  charm 
ing  women  in  the  world.'  The  musical  gentleman  will 
find  something  about  the  forthcoming  concert  of  some 
foreign  signor  or  monsieur,  who,  according  to  his  line, 
is  either  first  tenor,  or  first  violinist,  or  first  flautist,  or 
first  pianist  to  the  king  of  Bavaria,  who,  if  we  believe 
all  the  advertisements,  is  one  of  the  most  extraordinary 
patrons  of  music  among  the  crowned  heads  of  the  conti 
nent,  employing  many  hundreds  of  musicians  at  enor 
mous  salaries,  and  allowing  all  of  them  perpetual  leave 
of  absence  to  give  concerts  on  their  own  hook  in 
England  and  America.  The  theatre-going  man  will 
find  <  the  small  bill,'  so  often  abruptly  referred  to  in  the 
larger  and  more  dignified  '  William,'  where  he  will  be 
lieve,  if  he  be  sufficiently  credulous,  that  all  the  charac 
ters  down  to  the  {  dummies,'  are  supported  by  gentlemen 
from  the  Royal  Theatres  of  London,  and  will  invoke 
silent  blessings  on  the  magnanimity  of  Mr.  Snuffles  or 
Mr.  Smithers,  who,  after  many  a  brilliant  triumph  at 
Drury  Lane,  consents  to  carry  off  two  chairs  and  a  table 
in  one  clutch,  for  the  gratification  and  instruction  of  a 
Boston  public.  The  general  reader  will  be  astonished 
to  learn  that  <  any  young  man  who  has  $200  to  loan  his 


'  We  conjured  up  the  image  of  the  tall  young  man  of  twenty,  launching  forth  into 
the  great  commercial  emporium."— Pafft  149. 


NEWSPAPER   ADVERTISEMENTS.  149 

employer,  can  have  a  chance  of  permanent  occupation 
in  a  genteel  and  pleasant  business,  which  will  be  guaran 
tied  to  yield  him  an  income  of  $1500  per  annum.' 

With  all  these  wonders  in  the  advertising  columns, 
we  hold  the  legitimate  owner  of  a  newspaper,  that  is,  the 
man  who  has  honestly  paid  for  a  copy,  very  much  to 
blame  if  he  neglects  making  himself  familiar  with  that 
portion  of  the  sheet.  We  would  not  advise  the  hotel 
boarder,  or  the  frequenter  of  the  barber's  shop,  to  be  so 
accurate,  for  he  may  rest  assured  that  the  time  during 
which  he  detains  his  fellows  from  the  perusal  of  the  news 
of  the  day,  will  assuredly  be  passed  by  them  in  reflect 
ing  on  his  faults,  or  pondering  on  the  means  of  rendering 
the  remainder  of  his  life  perfectly  wretched  and  uncom 
fortable. 

Be  this  as  it  may — there  are  queer  things  among  the 
advertisements — very.  We  always  ferret  among  them 
in  search  of  fun,  or  suggestive  ideas,  and  we  are  not 
often  disappointed.  We  came  across  the  following  in  the 
New  York  Sun  the  other  day — 

"  There  is  a  man  going  round  the  city  selling 
muslin  for  linen — he  is  a  tall  young  man,  seems  to  be 
about  twenty  years  of  age ;  it  will  be  better  for  him  to 
bring  back  the  pantaloons  that  he  got  in  trade  on  Wed 
nesday  evening,  if  he  does  not  he  will  be  brought  back." 

We  don't  know  whether  the  above  will  strike  others 
as  it  did  us — to  our  imagination  it  conveyed  a  very 
amusing  picture.  First,  we  conjured  up  the  image  of 
the  tall  young  man  of  twenty,  launching  forth  into  the 
great  commercial  emporium  (after  having  probably  served 
a  thorough  apprenticeship  at  {  thimble-rigging,'  and 
<  watch-burning,')  with  the  bold  and  hardy  determination, 


150  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

worthy  of  a  better  cause,  to  pass  off  muslin  (New  York 
for  cotton)  for  linen.  What  a  contemptuous  opinion  of 
the  intellects  of  Gotham  the  tall  young  man  of  twenty 
must  entertain  as  a  basis  for  his  project !  Then  we  pic 
tured  a  very  soft-spoken  and  very  verdant  gentleman  in 
sewed  boots  and  an  intellectual-looking  hat,  with  a  mild 
description  of  checked  gingham  for  a  neckcloth,  who 
meets  the  audacious  pedlar,  falls  into  the  trap,  sees  no 
muslin  in  the  sanguine  and  blooming  view  he  takes  of  a 
shirt-pattern,  and  parts  with  an  excellent  pair  of  doe 
skins,  which  he  has  worn  but  once,  for  an  article  dear  at 
four  shillings — York  currency. 

'But  with  the  morning 
Cool  reflection  comes.' 

An  astute  matron — his  housekeeper  perhaps — at  one 
dexterous  tweak,  accompanied  by  one  flash  of  a  pair  of 
horn-bowed  spectacles,  detects  the  imposition.  The 
verdant  gentleman  in  the  intellectual  hat,  sinks  into  a 
chair  beneath  the  mingled  pressure  of  shame  and  indig 
nation,  and  only  rouses  therefrom  in  the  first  rush  of  an 
inspiration,  under  the  influence  of  which  he  pens  the  ad 
vertisement  we  have  copied,  and  which  cost  him  six 
shillings  (York  again),  for  insertion  in  the  Sun.  It 
never  occurs  to  him  that  the  « tall  young  man  of  twenty' 
would  snap  his  fingers  at  the  threat,  well  knowing  that 
if  his  victim  knew  where  to  find  him  or  could  prove  his 
guilt,  he  would  at  once  place  a  <  Star'  policeman  on  his 
.  track,  instead  of  uttering  vague  threats  and  cautions  in 
the  newspapers.  Happily  ignorant  of  this,  the  soft 
headed  gentleman  buttons  his  muslin  shirt  to  his  throat, 
and  indulges  in  a  romantic  vision  of  a  return  of  the  « tall 
young  gentleman  of  twenty,'  in  penitential  tears,  with  the 


HOW    WE    SMOKED    HIM    OUT. 

doeskins  neatly  folded  on  his  arm — those  doeskins  that 
have  seen  the  light  but  once  in  the  summer  stillness  of  a 
Sabbath  day  at  Harlem.  Queer  things — these  adver 
tisements  ! 

F.  A.  D. 


HOW  WE  SMOKED  HIM  OUT. 

To  the  multitude  acquainted  with  the  miseries  and 
mysteries  of  a  <  first-rate  boarding-house'  in  New  York 
— the  following  sketch  contains  but  little  interest.  The 
many  who  have  never  been  ' tharj  however,  may  disco 
ver  a  sort  of  philosophy  in  the  story ;  and  should  any  find 
themselves  similarly  circumstanced,  let  them  adopt  a 
like  remedy,  and  <  take  our  hat'  if  the  <  critter  is  n't 
druv  out!' 

In  the  year  183 — ,  I  had  taken  lodgings  in  a  « respect 
able'  boarding-place  in street,  and  a  four  months' 

residence  had  fairly  initiated  me.  I  was  scarcely  twenty, 
yet  I  had  been  plundered  of  my  wardrobe,  by  a  stran 
ger,  who  was  <  stopping  only  a  day  or  two ;'  I  had  paid 
the  supper-bills  at  Delmonico's  for  half-a-score  of  the 
knowin'  ones,  who  had  invited  me  to  participate  with 
them,  and  who  had  either  <  left  their  pocket-books  at 
home,'  or  who  had  prematurely  '  stepped  out,'  as  I  was 
finishing  my  last  cup  of  chocolate.  I  had  run  the 
1  nefly'  gauntlet,  and  was  perfectly  well  acquainted  with 
the  shortest  cut  both  to  and  from  Passandro's !  I  had 
been  four  months  in  Gotham — and  it  was  midsummer. 

The  good  lady  of  the  house  was  one  of  the  few  who 
paid  her  bills,  regularly.  And  well  she  might!  Her 


152  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

house  was  always  filled,  and  <  three  in  a  room'  was  a 
moderate  allowance.  Two  beds  in  my  own  apartment 
were  occupied ;  the  third  had  been  vacant  for  a  week. 
An  applicant  came — he  was  one  of  'em — a '  transient  gen 
tleman  from  the  West  Indies' — and  he  had  the  pleasure 
of  being  shown  to  the  unoccopied  cot  in  our  room.  My 
chum  and  I  had  returned  from  an  evening  call  at  ten 
o'clock,  and  found  the  intruder  safely  stowed  away  for 
the  night.  It  was  hardly  the  thing,  this — (we  had  been 
victimized  once) — and  we  put  ourselves  immediately  on 
the  defensive.  The  stranger  was  awake,  and  muttered 
something  in  half  French,  half  English — about  his  being 
disturbed  by  our  entrance.  An  exchange  of  glances 
between  Bill  and  myself  fixed  the  matter,  and  we  com 
menced  operations  forthwith. 

As  I  have  said,  it  was  July.  The  thermometer 
had  ranged  well  up  to  95°  throughout  the  day,  and  the 
night  was  oppressively  close  and  sultry.  I  immediately 
closed  the  two  windows,  with  an  affected  shudder  at  the 
chilly  night  air,  my  roorn-mate  shut  the  door,  and  I  rang 
the  bell.  The  servant  promptly  responded  to  the  sum 
mons. 

"Jerry — a  scuttle  of  coal,  and  some  kindlings  !" 

"A  what,  sir?" 

"A  hod  of  anthracite,  sir;  and  bear  a  hand,  too. 
We  want  a  fire." 

A  half  snicker  passed  over  Jerry's  countenance  as  he 
left  the  door  of  the  chamber — but  he  returned  very 
shortly,  puffing  and  blowing  with  the  exertion,  (for  the 
weather  was  intensely  hot !)  and  placed  a  scuttle  of 
coal,  etc.,  at  our  disposal. 

"  Anything  more,  sir  ?" 


HOW   WE   SMOKED   HIM   OUT.  153 

"Yes.  Go  to ,  the  chandler's,  and  bring  me 

half-a-dozen  bundles  of  <  short  six'  cigars." 

"  Short-sixes,  sir !" 

"  Short  sixes,  Jerry — green  ones,  if  he  has  them." 

Five  minutes  only  elapsed  before  Jerry  returned  with 
a  choice  collection  of  abbreviated  '  nines' — so  green  that 
they  were  black  ! 

"  Nothing  more,  sir?" 

"  Nothing  now,  Jerry — but  look  sharp  at  the  bell." 

"  Yes,  sir" — and  Jerry  vanished. 

Meantime  we  had  cleared  the  pipe — the  fire  was  well 
under  way,  and  we  shortly  afterwards  discovered  the 
quicksilver  at  106 !  But  still  we  shuddered,  and  Bill 
continued  to  clear  the  grate,  complaining  of  the  '  lack 
of  draught,'  while  we  jointly  blazed  away  at  the  <  sixes' 
— the  atmosphere  in  the  apartment  having  by  this  time 
become  so  dense  and  clogged  with  heat  and  the  burning 
of  green  Virginia  tobacco,  saturated  with  vitriol  water 
— that  it  was  absolutely  choking. 

Our  dark-brown  friend  turned  uneasily  upon  his 
feather  bed.  A  stifled  "  whew !"  or  two  was  all  that 
had  as  yet  escaped  him,  however.  He  turned  again, 
and  threw  the  coverlet  upon  the  foot-board. 

Bill  came  to  his  aid  at  once !  The  poker  rang  beneath 
the  grate — another  peck  of  anthracite  was  deposited  in 
the  cylinder  stove — the  stub  of  his  half-smoked  cigar 
was  thrown  upon  the  red-hot  cover — the  fire  blazed 
again,  and  our  West  India-man  dashed  his  sweat-moist 
ened  sheet  upon  the  carpet,  with — 

«  Sacre  ! — Got,  dam !     I  sal  be  pinch  all  up !" 

"What  did  you  observe,  sir?"  inquired  Bill,  as  he 
coolly  lighted  another  six. 


154  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

"  Hah!    Be  gar,  I  sal  die  wis  zis" — 

"Subject  to  the  cramp,  sir?"  said  I,  affecting  to  mis 
understand  him. 

"  Cramb  !  Wot  you  call  dat  cramb  ?  You  cramb 
dem  sto*  pipe — by  gar,  sare,  I  sal  shoke  me,  in  my 
winepipe — by  dam  !" 

Bill  swore  the  fire  wouldn't  burn,  and  that  he  should 
freeze,  if  he  couldn't  do  something  to  warm  the  room. 

Our  new-comer  tossed  from  one  side  of  the  cot  to  the 
other — the  perspiration  rolling  from  his  body,  meanwhile 
— but  my  affectionate  chum  still  plied  the  poker,  and  we 
continued  to  smoke,  and  chatter,  and  sing — Bill  occa 
sionally  varying  the  amusement  with  an  inimitable  shak 
ing-fit,  as  if  the  ague  had  him. 

But  the  fun  was  getting  to  be  beyond  endurance,  and 
we  conceived  a  most  lively  prospect  that  we  were  ob 
taining  more  than  we  had  bargained  for.  The  moment 
had  arrived  when  we  must  storm  the  fort,  or  beat  a 
retreat. 

«  Gad !"  exclaimed  Bill  on  a  sudden,  "  did  you  ever 
know  such  cursed  weather  in  July  ?  We  must  have 
another  scuttle  of  coal." 

He  sprung  the  bell-cord,  and  Jerry  was  at  hand. 

"  Another  scuttle  of  coal,  Jerry." 

Bill  snuffed  a  breath  of  fresh  air  as  the  door  closed  on 
the  retiring  servant,  and  the  next  moment  a  piece  of 
sealing-wax  was  simmering  on  the  top  of  the  stove. 

This  was  too  much  for  our  friend.  He  bounded  from 
the  cot  naked  to  the  buff,  as  wet  as  if  he  had  just  left  a 
shower-bath — and  commenced  such  a  tirade  as  I  never 
heard  before  or  since. 

"  Vot  you  do,  sare  ?  By  dam — you  have  break  my 
neck  short  off,  wis  zis  dam" 


HOW   WE   SMOKED   HIM   OUT.  155 

"What's  the  matter,  sir?"  asked  Bill,  quietly. 

"Mattair? — JVb  mattair,  sare.  Zis  dam  shokeme — 
wis  you  'Mericaine  segare  —  wot-you-call-em  —  dam 
shote-seex.  Begare,  you  have  squeeze  all  ze  bref  from 
my  hellish,  vot  you  call  stomach !  Wot  you  for  do  zis ' 
—I  sal" 

"  Don't  you  smoke  in  your  country  ?"  inquired  Bill, 
innocently. 

"  Wot  you  call  zat  shmokel  You  have  kill  me  dead 
— one,  two,  tree  times,  wis  zis  dam— pah ! — I  sal  be 
accommodait  bettair,  sair — I  sal  comeplain" 

11  Hadn't  you  better  go  to  a  hotel,  sir  ?" 

"Hottel!  Wot  you  call  zem  hot-'el,  eh? — begair, 
sair,  you  find  one  hot  'ell  wis  no  shmoke  in  him,  some 
fine  day !  Sacre  !  I  sal  move  out ! — by  dam !" 

With  this,  the  poor  fellow  commenced  dressing  and 
packing  his  duds — and  we  soon  afterwards  had  the  satis 
faction  of  seeing  him  making  his  way  down  stairs,  nearer 
dead  than  alive — most  vociferously  cursing  '  zem  dam 
Yankee  shote-seex!'  He  obtained  quarters  at  Holt's 
house,  near  by,  however,  and  we  were  satisfied  ;  having 
literally  smoked  the  forbidding-looking  biped  out  of  our 
premises. 

Shortly  after  midnight,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  ridding 
ourselves  of  the  intruder ;  and  throwing  up  the  sashes, 
we  aired  the  apartment  as  best  we  could — the  rousing 
coal  fire  was  extinguished — the  cylinder  cooled  off — and 
though  we  half-smothered  ourselves  in  this  adventure, 
we  were  never  afterward  troubled  with  offensive  stran 
gers  in  <  ROOM  24.' 

G.  P.  B. 


CROSSING  THE  ALLEGHANIES. 

WHEN  we  crossed  the  Alleghany  Mountains  for  the 
first  time,  we  secured  an  outside  seat  upon  coach  <  No. 
301,  GOOD  INTENT  LINE.'  We  are  <  constitutionally  fee 
ble  ;'  and  constitutionally  feeble  folks  shouldn't  ride  on  the 
inside,  particularly  when  they  set  it  down  as  a  sure  thing 
that  the  coach  is  to  be  upset ! 

The  night  was  dark  as  Erebus,  the  caps  of  the  ragged 
hills  loomed  up  in  the  distant  fog,  like  so  many  huge, 
grim  ghosts  en  dishabille,  the  drivers  generally  were 
cold  and  crusty,  and  stage  succeeded  stage  till  after 
midnight,  without  the  occurrence  of  anything  to  vary 
the  scene,  save  the  snoring  of  the  insiders,  or  the  oc 
casional  breaking  of  the  «  drag-block.' 

We  finally  exchanged  stages  at  Uniontown,  where  we 
took  a  new  driver,  one  of  the  veriest  '  Sammy  Wellers' 
we  ever  met,  a  quiet,  clever  fellow — half  Yorkshireman, 
half  Cockney — who  inclined  to  make  himself  <  agreeable' 
to  the  <gen'lman  as  'os  on  the  box.'  We  passed  him 
our  cigar-case,  from  which  he  drew  a  regalia,  which  he 
lighted,  and  having  placed  it  in  a  comfortable  corner  of 
his  countenance,  he  took  up  the  ribbons  and  away  we 
went. 

"  Vest — cap'n  ?"  said  Sam. 

«  Fes— West." 

"Fur  vest?" 


CROSSING   THE   ALLEGHANIES.  157 

«  To  Cincinnati." 

"  Yees.  Sensinater's  kernsiderable — but  nothin'  to 
brag  on !" 

a  No!" 

"  No,  Sir.   York's  my  town — it's  the  place — is  York." 

"  New  York  is  a  driving  city." 

"  Drivin?  ?  Weny,  sir,  werry.  I  druv  a  cab  better'n 
four  year  there,  sir, — and  though  I  say  it,  as  shouldn't 
—it  were  werry  few  as  could  beat  my  prad,  sir." 

"  Have  you  been  upon  this  road  long?" 

"  Oh,  bless  yer,  yees,  sir.  Come  Christmas — some 
sixteen  months,  an'  more." 

"  And  do  you  fancy  this  night-work  ?" 

"  I  doesn't  mind  the  vork — only  fur  the  haxidents." 


"  The  haxidents,  sir." 

"What  accidents?" 

"  Lord  bless  your  hinnercence,  sir!  Then  you  haven't 
heard." 

«  Heard  ! — why — no 1 " 

"0,  they're  werry  plenty,  sir!  It's  scarce  a  night 
but  sunthin1  happens. — Hi,  Sal ! — That  long-tailed  'oo- 
man  on  the  lead  there,  sir,  's  orful — she  is.  She's  apt 
to  shy,  too,  summut." 

"  Have  a  care,  then,  driver !" 

"  Oh,  never  fear,  sir." 

"  What  is  that  terrible  gulph,  yonder?" 

"Ah — that  arn't  nothin',  sir.     It's  only  the  Shades." 

"The  Shades?" 

"  Yees,  sir — ve  calls  that  'ere  the  Shades  o'  Death. 
Take  a  look,  sir?" 

"  Don't  stop,  driver — go  on." 


158  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

« Black  Sal,  sir,  's  werry  steady,  kinder,  to  night. 
Nice  old  'ooman  she's  gettin'.  Vy,  do  you  know,  sir, 
the  warmint  almost  oilers  vants  to  stop,  jest  yere  or  yere- 
abouts !  She's  a  rum  'un,  sir — is  Sal.  I've  seen  her 
dance  a  werry  hexcellent  'ornpipe,  yere,  sir.  But  she's 
gettin'  old,  sorter." 

"  I  have  no  taste  for  horses." 

"Wot,  sir — not  for  'ossesT' 

tf  No — driver — no." 

"  Sal's  an  ugly  cuss,  she  is — werry.  There,  sir!—, 
it's  jest  edzackly  as  I  said "  | 

The  team  here  came  to  a  full  stop — at  the  crown  of  a 
long  hill,  and  '  Sal'  commenced  her  gyrations — now  on 
her  haunches,  now  on  her  head,  now  up,  or  down,  twist 
ing  and  quirking  and  devilling,  until  she  broke  the  off- 
trace,  and  turning  completely  round  in  her  harness,  she 
looked  up  at  us  or  at  the  lights,  as  much  as  to  say,  <  how 
do  you  like  that,  stranger?' 

Matters  were  righted,  however — and  when  Sal  got 
ready  to  start,  the  pace  she  took  down  the  hill  was  cer 
tainly  a  caution  to  snails ! 

"All  safe" — bawled  the  driver  as  we  reached  the 
bottom — "  'gad,  sir,  but  I  thought  she'd  land  us  that 
time — she's  done  it  twice." 

"  Done  what,  driver  ?" 

«  Upset  the  waggin,  sir!" 

"How?" 

"  Rolled  'em  into  the  Shades,  sir!" 

"  And  they  were  killed  ?" 

"  Couldn't  say,  sir — righted  up  as  best  ve  could — and 
put  right  through." 

*•'  And  left  the  passengers  ?'" 


THE   MARCH   OF   SCIENCE.  159 

«  0  yees. — Bless  yer,  how  yer  stare,  sir!  Ve  drive  the 
mail  line — ve  do — you  know,  sir." 

«  And  the  passengers  get  on  afterwards " 

"  As  best  they  can." 

"  I  shall  stop  at  the  next  stage." 

"  Yes,  sir — yere  ve  are  /" 

«  The  agent  must  refund  me  my  money.     I'll  not  go 
on " 

"  Ve  never  refunds  nutbin  yere,  sir — ve  don't Ve 

knows  about  all  kinds  o'  fun's,  'cept  refun' — ve  does" 
— and  dashing  up  to  the  door,  we  found  ourselves  safe, 
so  far  ! 

G.  P.  B. 


THE  MARCH  OF  SCIENCE. 

A  RAW  specimen  of  the  rawest  kind  of  Yankee  arrived 
at  the  Franklin  House,  in  Philadelphia,  one  day  last 
wefek,  and  having  been  shown  to  an  apartment,  he  has 
tily  adjusted  his  outer  man,  and  made  his  appearance 
in  the  reception  room,  below.  He  walked  up  to  the 
office,  and  inquired  of  the  attendant  "whar  he  could  find 
a  doctor  J1"  The  servant  referred  him  to  the  clerk. 

"Wai,  nabur — Whar'll  I  git  a  doctor?" 

«  A  physician  ?" 

"No-  -a  doctor" 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir — a  surgeon  you  mean." 

"  No,  I  don't,  nuther.     I  mean  a  teooth  doctor." 

«  Ah  -a  dentist.     Yes." 


160  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"Wai — I  do'  no'  wot  you  calls  'em,  y ere — but  we 
calls  'em  teooth  doctors  down  our  way." 

"  Your  teeth  trouble  you,  eh  ?" 

"Blast  it!  I  reckon  you'd  think  so — ef  you  had  it. 
'Taint  dun  nuthin'  but  jump  like  blazes,  fer  more'n  teu 
hours — an'  I'm  gwoin  to  hev  it  aout,  sure !" 

The  stranger  was  forthwith  directed  to  the  nearest 
dentist.  Arriving  at  the  hotel  door,  he  hailed  a  cab, 
and  gave  him  the  doctor's  address  (which  happened  to 
be  in  the  next  street  beyond !)  and  having  rode  some 
fifteen  minutes^  he  was  backed  up  in  front  of  the  door ! 
He  jumped  out — paid  his  {  four  levies' — jerked  the  bell- 
pull — and  was  ushered  into  the  <  drawing'  room. 

During  the  operation  upon  a  customer  who  preceded 
him,  he  amused  himself  by  staring  at  the  pictures  upon 
the  walls,  or  in  handling  over  the  instruments — occasion 
ally  inquiring  »  what  this  was  fer  ?" — or  "  what  the  man 
did  with  that1?"  until  his  turn  arrived,  and  the  oper 
ator  requested  him  to  be  seated. 

"Whar?" 

"  Here,  sir — if  you  please." 

"I  want  a  teooth  pulled." 

"  I  understand,  sir." 

"  Wai — s'pose  you  deu." 

"  Be  seated,  sir — please." 

"  Oh,  yaas.  There — that's  the  feller,  thar"  continued 
the  Yankee — and  he  made  such  a  hole  in  his  face,  as 
safely  rendered  it  an  <  open  countenance  !'  The  opera 
tor  immediately  adjusted  his  forceps,  seized  the  molar, 
and  with  a  single  wrench,  placed  the  tooth  upon  the 
table. 

"  Hil-J0M>  /  Ow !"  shouted  the  Yankee — "  wot'n  thai- 


THE   MARCH    OF   SCIENCE.  161 

der  are  yer  deuin'  ?  Consarn  you !  yer've  tore  a  feller's 
jaw  all  teu  smash ! 

"  Not  so  bad  as  that — I  hope" 

"  Wai — it  dooz  feel  better,  fact'" 

"  I  thought  it  would." 

«  By  gracious !  though — you  did  it  slick !" 

«  I  shall  be  happy  to  serve  you  again" — added  the 
polite  doctor ! 

«  Wai— I  do'  no'  'bout  that.     Wot's  to  pay  ?" 

"  One  dollar." 

"One  what1?" 

"  A  dollar,  sir." 

"  A  dev 1  mean — that  is — 'od  fergive  me  for 

swarm' — but,  Mister,  ain't  you  mistak'n  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

"0,  git  aout!  you're  jokin'!" 

"No,ttY." 

"Wai,  now,  luke  yere — stranger.  You  wusn't  long 
abaout  it." 

"  I  know  it,  sir" — 

"  And  a  dollar  for  less'n  a  mink's  work  ain't  'zackly 
deuin's  yeu'd  be  dun  by — swan  'taint !" 

"  A  dollar  is  my  price,  sir." 

"  A  dollar  !  Thunder  and  brickbats!  yeu  don't  mean 
it!" 

« I  do,  indeed,  sir." 

«  Wai — ef  I  must — yere's  yer  money." 

«  Thank  you." 

« I've  hed  a  teooth  pulled  afore." 

"  So  I  perceive — all  but  the  stump." 

"  And  it  tuk  the  doctor  more'n  an  hour  to  deu  it !" 

«  Possible  ?" 


162  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  He  jes  bed  teu  drag  me  raound  the  room,  fore  an' 
aft,  twenty  times — and  when  he  lost  his  <  grip,'  he'd  take 
a'holt  agin  smarter'n  ever !  It  wus  the  reel  nat'rail  kind 
o'  labour" — 

«  Astonishing !" 

"An'  he  didn't  charge  me  but  twenty-five  cents  /" 

"  He  was  very  reasonable." 

"Wai,  Mr.  Dentiss — I  b'lieve  that's  yure  name  — 
which  way  is  it  teu  the  Franklin  House  ?" 

"  Directly  round  the  corner,  sir." 

"  Whorl" 

"  Round  the  first  corner." 

"  Devil  it  is !  Wy — I  gin  a  cab  feller  half-a- dollar  to 
take  me  to  the  first  doctor's — and  he  rode  me  raound  a 
dozen  streets,  to  git  here!" — and  muttering  a  curse 
upon  toothaches,  dentists,  and  cab-drivers — he  repaired 
to  the  hotel,  brought  out  his  luggage  himself,  and  trudg 
ed  to  the  Western  cars — declaring  he  would  never  stop 
in  <  Feledelfy'  again  until  he  had  a  bigger  pile  of  '  tin* 
than  he  was  blessed  with  on  his  first  visit ! 

G.  P.  B. 


SELLING  "JONAS"  AT  THE  TREMONT 
HOUSE. 

THE  BROWNS  and  the  SMITHS  have  much  to  answer 
for,  verily — and  it  would  need  a  heap  of  tears  to  blot 
out  the  record  of  their  short-comings!  Brown  alias 
Smith,  is  not  an  every-day  cognomen,  but  occasionally 
it  may  be  seen  in  print. 

Who  doesn't  know  friend  WHITCOMB,  of  the  Tremont 
House,  in  Boston  ?  Far  as  extends  the  fame  of  this 
popular  and  noted  Hotel,  so  far  is  <  JONAS'  known  for 
his  gentlemanly  character  and  uniform  civility.  But  in 
an  unlucky  moment,  lately,  despite  the  world-wide 
reputation  of  our  friend  for  his  far-sightedness — Jonas 
was  <  picked  up !' 

All  the  l  Job  Trotters'  are  not  dead  yet !  On  the  last 
Sunday  in  October,  Jonas  sat  cosily  enjoy  ing  his  regalia 
after  dinner,  when  a  smooth-faced  individual,  with  a 
clean  white  neckerchief  about  his  throat,  entered  the 
{  office'  of  the  Tremont,  in  search  of  the  proprietor, 
Mr.  Tucker,  who  happened  to  be  absent  from  town. 
Mr.  Whitcomb  was  all  attention,  and  with  no  more  than 
his  customary  blandness  of  manner,  proffered  his  ser 
vices,  which  the  stranger  promptly  declined,  and,  with 
a  melancholy  sigh,  turned  to  depart. 

"  In  Mr.  Tucker's  absence,"  said  the  obliging  clerk, 
"  perhaps  I  might  answer." 

"  No  sir — we  are  strangers." 


164  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

« If  I  might  presume  to  inquire, "  gently  urged 
Jonas — • — 

"  No — no  !  Mr.  Tucker  knows  me,  but  —  never 
mind,"  continued  the  stranger,  and  a  bandanna  passed 
over  his  handsome  countenance,  as  another  deep-drawn 
sigh  escaped  him ! 

This  was  too  much  for  the  big  heart  of  the  gentle 
manly  book-keeper,  who  again  urged  the  stranger  to 
disclose  his  melancholy  business. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  I  must  expose  my  troubles,  I  know  oi 
no  one  more  worthy  of  my  confidence  than  Mr.  Whit- 
comb.  I  believe  this  is  Mr.  Whitcomb  ?" — 

"  At  your  service,  sir." 

"  Of  whom  I  have  so  often  heard  my  good  friend  Mr. 
Tucker,  remark,  '  he  is  my  right  hand,  sir,  that  Whit- 
comb  !' " 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  my  dear  sir?"  continued 
Jonas,  who  was  very  deeply  moved  by  this  friendly 
allusion. 

"  Oh,  nothing — that  is,  a  trifle,  sir, — a  mere  trifle  just 
now." 

"  I  have  lost" — and  big  tears  choked  the  sufferer's 
utterance.  "  Oh,  sir,  it  is  dreadful ;  but  I  have  just 
lost  my  poor,  dear  wife !  She  expired  last  night — I 
cannot  see  my  employer,  to-day — and  a  coffin  must  be 

had.     I  shall  never" 

"  Nay,  my  dear  sir  ! — give  yourself  no  uneasiness. 
How  much  will  suffice?"  asked  Jonas,  as  he  put  one 
hand  into  his  pocket,  and  with  the  other  wiped  away  a 
brace  of  tears  from  his  eyes  almost  as  big  as  walnuts ! 

"  Ten  dollars  will  be  ample,  sir." 

«  Here  it  Is." 


BENEVOLENCE   REWARDED.  165 

The  stranger  was  about  to  press  his  hand,  (though  just 
at  this  moment,  he  appeared  for  the  first  time  to  be  in  a 
hurry !)  but  Mr.  Whitcomb  needed  no  thanks. 

"No,  sir — no.  Go  and  bury  your  wife;  it's  all 
right,  sir, — don't  say  a  word,"  and  the  stranger  departed 
with  the  X. 

An  hour  afterwards,  Jonas  conversed  with  some 
friends — and  suddenly  < smelt  a  rat!'  He  had  been 
sold  by  '  Billy  Southack' — alias  Smith,  alias  Brown — 
for  a  ten-spot !  * 

"  You  may  laugh,  gentlemen,"  observes  Mr.  Whit- 
comb,  soberly, — as  the  joke  is  repeated  in  the  house — 
"  but  I  tell  you,  it  was  cheap,  at  the  price ;  experience 
costs  something,  gentlemen.  Mr.  Brown,  or  Mr.  Smith, 
or  Mr.  Whoever-he-is,  is  welcome  to  the  money  ;  it  was 
worth  a  ten-spot  to  see  the  cuss  weep  /" 

G.  P.  B. 


BENEVOLENCE  REWARDED. 

THE  above  title  figures  very  conspicuously  in  children's 
picture-books  and  playbills,  being,  in  the  former,  the 
infallible  precursor  of  a  tale  wherein  some  generous 
juvenile  who  has  given  away  his  pocket-money  to  a 
blind  beggar  receives  a  great  deal  more  money  than  he 
gave  away,  as  well  as  a  Noah's  ark  and  a  peg-top  from 
some  delighted  grandfather  or  doting  aunt.  And  on 
the  stage,  whenever  the  hero,  on  being  appealed  to  by  a 
very  tight-waisted  sailor  with  a  very  small  bundle  who 
comes  to  him  with  a  woful  tale  of  shipwreck,  places  a 
14 


166  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

purse  in  his  hands,  and  drawing  the  back  of  his  right 
hand  across  his  eyes,  says,  in  a  tone  of  plaintive  hoarse 
ness,  "there  —  that  is  the  fruit  of  a  life's  hard  labour, 
reserved  to  buy  yon  cottage,  where  I  live ;  but  take  it ; 
it  is  yours ;"  and  when  the  sailor,  after  asserting  that  he 
can  never  take  the  last  plank  from  a  drowning  man, 
refers  to  his  organs  of  vision,  and  says  something  about 
his  '  pumps  being  set  a  going,'  winding  up  with  a  little 
profanity,  supposed  to  indicate  his  <  heart's  being  in  the 
right  place  :'  then,  we  say,  instead  of  the  sailor's  prov 
ing  an  impostor  and  the  charitable  hero's  ruining  him 
self  for  nothing,  either  the  sailor  turns  out  to  be  an 
admiral  and  an  uncle,  with  a  red  face,  knee-buckles, 
and  <  plenty  of  shot  in  the  locker,'  who  puts  his  long- 
unseen  nephew  to  the  test  preparatory  to  making  his 
fortune,  or  else  some  other  incredible  thing  happens  by 
which  <  benevolence'  is  <  rewarded,'  and  the  curtain  falls 
on  three  or  four  people  who  express  their  felicity  by 
bowing  in  a  very  stately  manner  with  their  hands  to  their 
hearts.  All  this  is  very  well  for  picture-books  and 
play-houses,  and  young  ladies  in  particular  may  shed 
tears  over  it  and  think  it  '  sweet  pretty ;'  but  in  actual 
life,  though  generosity  is  its  own  reward,  we  don't  think 
that  fortune  too  frequently  favours  the  benevolent.  By 
way  of  illustration  we  will  relate  the  following  fact. 

Two  or  three  years  ago,  on  the  eve  of  Thanksgiving,  a 
very  worthy  mechanic  purchased  a  lot  of  turkeys  of  a 
countryman  who  lived  at  a  great  distance  and  was  in  a  great 
hurry  to  get  home,  at  a  very  moderate  price.  He  might 
have  realized  a  very  handsome  profit  on  the  bargain,  but 
being  a  very  good-hearted  fellow,  he  thought  he  would 
dispose  of  them  to  his  shopmates  at  the  same  price  he 


BENEVOLENCE   REWARDED.  167 

had  paid  himself,  viz :  about  seven  cents  a  pound.  One 
would  have  thought  that  this  course  would  have  earned 
grateful  thanks  and  civilities  at  least.  Not  so — the  pur 
chasers  of  the  turkeys  being  a  mischievous  set  and  very 
fond  of  a  good  joke,  especially  at  other  people's  expense, 
laid  their  heads  together,  and  the  result  was  a  cruel  trick 
upon  their  benevolent  friend. 

On  the  morning  after  the  latter  had  sold  all  his  turkeys, 
one  of  the  purchasers  sought  him  out  with  a  small  par 
cel  in  his  hand. 

"  Come,  now,  Mr.  Sawpht,"  said  he  ;  "  you're  a  deep 
one — ain't  ye  ?  I  thought  them  turkeys  was  amazin' 
cheap — seven  cents — but  if  turkey's  cheap  at  seven 
cents,  granite  screenings  ain't,  by  a  long  chalk !" 

"  Granite  screenings  /" 

"Yes — granite  screenings!  You  needn't  look  so 
mild  and  honest.  You  can't  come  it  over  this  individual. 
Look  a  here — confound  your  painted  picture." 

So  saying,  and  with  well-simulated  wrath,  the  spokes 
man  opened  his  bundle  and  produced  a  lot  of  heavy 
stones. 

"  There,"  said  he ;  "  all  them  'ere  came  out  of  that 
'ere  turkey  which  I  bought  of  you  last  night,  you  miser 
able  sinner.  Ain't  you  'shamed  for  to  come  for  to  go 
for  to  play  off  sich  a  trick  on  a  shopmate  ?" 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Mr.  Sawpht,  aghast ;  "  I 
didn't  know  anything  'bout  the  stones." 

"  Wai ;  you  believe  your  eyes,  don't  ye  ?" 

"  Of  course — of  course — and  I'll  heft  the  stones  and 
deduct — I'll  make  it  all  square  —  right  off.  But," 
added  the  mild  Mr.  Sawpht,  kindling  into  unwonted  pas 
sion,  "ef  I  could  only  come  across  that  ere  Vermonter 


168  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

which  I  was  took  in  by,  if  I  wouldn't  spile  his  picter, 
bust  my  boots  and  gallowses !" 

"Hellow!  Sawpht!"  sung  out  half-a-dozen  voices 
altogether ;  "  You're  a  nice  man,  I  don't  think" — «  Pa- 
vin'  stones  has  riz,  hasn't  they?"  "Ever  heered  of 
feedin'  turkeys  onto  rocks  ?"  &c.,  &c. 

And  half-a-dozen  turkeys,  containing  many  geologi 
cal  specimens,  were  thrust  into  the  very  face  and  eyes 
of  our  benevolent  friend. 

"  Gentlemen !  gentlemen !"  roared  Mr.  Sawpht  — 
"  spar  me — spar  my  feelin's.  Jest  hear  me,  and  then 
strike  me,  if  you  can,  as  Themistocles  very  mildly  ob 
served  to  Richard  the  Third  at  the  Battle  of  Bunker 
Hill.  I'm  willin'  to  make  restitution !  Ef  /  was  took 
in,  you  shan't  be  no  how.  I  move  that  we  adjourn  to 
Bill  Stephen's  grocery,  whar  I'll  weigh  the  stones,  and 
refund  the  money." 

The  motion  was  carried  by  acclamation.  They  ad 
journed  to  Bill's,  and  there  our  unfortunate  friend  com 
menced  weighing  granite,  enlivening  his  occupation  by 
sundry  invectives  directed  against  the  turkey-dealer. 
"  Tew  pounds — fourteen  cents — darn  his  ugly  picter  ! 
and  a  half — I  hain't  got  no  half  cent,  but  take  four. 
Seven  pounds!  consarn  his  soul!  Salvation!  what  a 
rock  that  was !  Two  thirty-seven,  sir !  Enough  to 
build  a  meeting-'us !  Ten  pounds — I'm  bust,  by  gravy !" 

As  ill  luck  would  have  it,  on  Thanksgiving  evening, 
the  mild  and  benevolent  Mr.  Sawpht  chanced,  in  a  pub 
lic  thoroughfare,  to  encounter  the  turkey-dealer,  whom 
some  unforeseen  occurrence  had  detained  in  Boston. 
Although  a  perfectly  sober  man,  Mr.  S.  became  instantly 
intoxicated  with  passion.  Not  to  amplify,  the  result 


"  One  of  bin  eyes  was  in  deep  mourning,  and  his  nose  (none  of  the  handsomest, 
by  the  way)  was  quite  askew."— Page  160. 


BENEVOLENCE   REWARDED.  169 

was  an  aggravated  assault  on  the  turkey-dealer,  who,  en 
raged  at  being  thus  wantonly  assailed  and  doubly  out 
raged  in  being  charged  with  fraud,  paid  back  with 
interest  the  blows  he  took.  After  performing  prodigies 
of  valour,  Mr.  Sawpht  was  captured  by  a  couple  of 
the  <  moon's  minions'  who  chanced  to  be  awake,  and 
passed  the  remainder  of  the  night  in  the  lock-up.  Ten 
hours  of  sleepless  agony  did  not  render  his  appearance 
very  prepossessing,  as  he  stood  up  at  the  bar  of  the  Po 
lice  Court  the  next  morning,  and  Mr.  Justice ,  who 

always  judged  a  man  by  his  looks,  not  only  fined  him 
five  dollars  and  costs  for  the  assault,  but  also  assured 
him  that  his  entrance  into  the  House  of  Correction  was 
probably  not  far  distant.  And  one  of  the  morning 
papers,  under  its  police  head,  gave  the  following  <  first- 
rate  notice'  of  our  friend: 

"POLICE  COURT. 

"  BEFORE    JUDGE  . 


"  Yesterday  morning,  an  ill-looking  fellow,  calling  him 
self  James  Sawpht,  evidently  just  recovered  from  a 
Thanksgiving  spree,  was  brought  up,  charged  by  a  Mr. 
Elphineas  Horrikins  of  Vermont,  with  an  unprovoked 
assault  upon  him  on  the  evening  of  the  day  previous. 
The  watchmen  were  witnesses  of  the  affray  and  testified 
strongly.  We  were  glad  to  see  that  Mr.  Horrikins 
marked  his  man  pretty  thoroughly  in  the  course  of  the 
skirmish.  One  of  his  eyes  was  in  deep  mourning,  and 
his  nose  (none  of  the  handsomest,  by  the  way)  was  quite 
askew.  The  fellow  talked  very  incoherently  about  tur 
keys,  the  result  probably  of  one  of  those  mental  delu 
sions  to  which  the  intemperate  are  so  subject,  as  we 

L 


170  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

could  see  no  signs  of  any  <  turkey'  beyond  what  the  fel 
low  himself  had  on.  His  Honour  lectured  him  very 
severely  on  his  habits  and  on  his  offence,  and  mildly  re 
marked  that  he  should  impose  on  him  the  heaviest 
penalty  which  the  law  permitted,  and  he  hoped  sincerely 
he  would  remember  it  until  he  was  brought  up  again, 
which  he  assured  him  would  be  shortly,  for  some  yet 
more  heinous  misdemeanour,  when  it  would  give  him 
great  pleasure  to  save  society  from  his  dangerous  con 
tact,  and  to  save  him  from  himself,  by  assigning  him  a 
six  months'  residence  in  the  House  of  Correction.  The 
hardened  ruffian  seemed  to  listen  to  these  paternal  ad 
monitions  with  the  most  stoical  indifference,  but  they 
gave  great  satisfaction  to  the  two  watchmen ;  and  a 
little  boy  who  was  awaiting  trial  in  a  case  of  aggravated 
wooden-comb  peddling,  was  melted  to  tears." 

We  shall  not  follow  Mr,  Sawpht  into  the  bosom  of  his 
afflicted  family,  but  lest  any  of  our  readers  should  think 
too  hardly  of  his  fellow-craftsmen,  we  will  add  that  the 
conspirators  in  this  case  finally  made  up  the  amount  of 
Mr.  Sawpht's  fine,  and  in  the  course  of  a  year  restored 
the  amount  of  which  they  had  defrauded  him ;  but  to 
this  day  he  is  wholly  ignorant  of  their  treachery,  and 
only  wishes  he  "  could  have  one  more  lick  at  that  'ere 
turkey-dealer  where  there  warn't  no  watchmen." 

F.  A.  D. 


"DOING"  A  LANDLORD. 

IN  the  course  of  a  journey  Westward  some  years  ago 
we  chanced  to  be  witness  to  the  following  specimen  of 
nonchalance — which  we  set  down  as  one  of  the  coolest 
pieces  of  genteel  swindling  we  ever  encountered. 

A  biped  of  the  genus  '  sucker'  had  been  tarrying  for 
several  days  in  one  of  the  <  crack'  hotels  in  York  State, 
and  his  only  reply  to  the  third  weekly  bill  presented  by 
his  obsequious  and  obliging  host,  was,  that  <  he  lacked 
the  needful !'  He  had  been  lavish  in  his  style  of  living, 
and  his  bill  for  wines,  cigars,  and  accompaniments,  was 
by  no  means  an  inconsiderable  feature  in  the  account. 
The  young  {  gentleman'  was  in  his  room  with  a  trio  of 
boon  companions,  and  ringing  the  bell,  he  ordered  the 
champagne  and  fixin's  for  four.  The  servant  returned 
from  below  with  the  information  that  the  landlord  de 
clined  to  enlarge  his  indebtedness — accompanied  with  a 
hint  that  the  old  account  should  be  first  adjusted.  He 
immediately  waited  upon  the  landlord,  remonstrated 
with  him  touching  the  mortification  attendant  upon  being 
thus  shown  up  before  his  friends — the  wine  was  sent  up 
— the  party  frolicked,  and  finally  separated,  and  the  next 
morning,  after  breakfast,  the  following  scene  occurred. 

"  Mr.  "  said  the  polite  landlord — "  I  must 

now  insist  upon  the   immediate   adjustment  of  your 
account." 

"  Can't  meet  it,  sir,  to-day,  really!" 

"And  why  not,  sir?" 


172  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

«  Haven't  the  tin  by  me,  sir." 

"  And  you  probably  won't  have  ?" 

"  Probably  not,  sir,  at  present." 

"  When  do  you  propose  to  settle  it  ?" 

"  Couldn't  say,  sir,  'pon  my  honour.' 

"Have  you  the  slightest  idea  of  paying  it  at 

"  I  confess,  sir,  the  prospect  is  exceedingly  dubious !" 

"  Your  luggage" 

"  Is  in  my  room,  sir." 

"  I  shall  detain  your  trunks,  then." 

"Do — if  you  please,  sir!" 


"  The  largest" 

"  Is  filled  with  wood,  sir!" 

"With  wood?" 

"  The  best  kind  of  Eastern  wood." 

«  And  the  other" 

"  Contains  the  same  article,  sawed  and  split!11 

"  And  your  wardrobe" 

"  Is  on  my  back,  sir." 

"Upon  my  word,  you  take  it  coolly." 

"  I  always  do,  landlord.  The  world  owes  me  a 
living,  and  I  must  have  it." 

"  You  are  a  scoundrel,  sir." 

"  I  know  it.  You,  sir,  are  a  gentleman,  and  I  am 
aware  that  I" 

Our  host  stopped  him — bit  his  lips — but  a  moment 
afterward,  turned  to  the  bar  and  placed  a  bottle  of  wine 
upon  the  side-table  near  by. — Having  filled  a  brace  of 
glasses,  he  handed  one  of  them  to  the  sucker,  and  the 
liquor  disappeared.  He  then  presented  him  a  vase  filled 
with  'regalias.' 

"Take  another" — said  the  landlord,  in  the  politest 


"  DOING"  A  LANDLORD.  173 

possible  manner — "take  half-a-dozen,  sir,  there — that 
will  do.  The  world  may  <  owe  you  a  living,'  perhaps  it 
does.  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me,  however,  that  I 
have  paid  my  share  of  tlie  account.  I  have  in  my  day 
seen  a  good  deal  of  impudence,  and  my  calling  has 
brought  me  in  contact  with  a  great  variety  of  rascality  ; 
but  I  must  say,  without  intending,  however,  to  be  too 
personal  in  this  matter,  that,  without  exception,  you  are 
the  coolest  specimen  of  a  genuine  scamp  that  it  has  ever 
been  my  ill  luck  to  meet  with John  !" 

A  burly  servant  answered  this  summons. 

"  John — remove  this  fellow  to  the  street — and  if  you 
value  your  situation,  see  that  he  doesn't  return !" 

The  hint  was  enough — our  customer  didn't  wait  for 
further  demonstrations — but  immediately  decamped  to 
t  do'  some  other  host,  while  his  gentlemanly  landlord 
proceeded  to  examine  those  trunks,  the  contents  of  which, 
as  it  turned  out,  had  been  faithfully  described  ! 

G.  P.  B. 


HOW  THE  YANKEE  MADE  A  QUARTER. 

A  LARGE-MOUTHED,  raw-boned  Yankee  stood  upon  the 
side  of  T  Wharf,  one  day  this  fall — when  the  Eastern 
Steamboat  lines  were  at  the  height  of  their  competition, 
and  as  he  munched  a  hard-looking 'greening,' he  seemed 
intently  interested  in  the  movements  of  the  throng  who 
were  rushing  over  the  gang-plank,  aboard  the  fine  steam 
er  C ,  bound  down  East. 

The  steam  was  well  up  upon  both  boats,  which  lay 
rolling,  and  backing,  and  filling,  from  the  action  of  the 
paddles,  at  the  dock,  but  the  steam  was  higher  <  up'  on 
the  landing,  among  the  {  runners' — who  were  urging 
customers  to  take  passage  each  upon  their  favourite 
craft. 

"Oh,  she'll  bust  her  biler,  this  trip — sure" — remarked 
one  of  the  agents  aloud,  alluding  to  the  opposition. 

"  Wai — she  hain't  done  it  yit,  old  covey,"  said  the 
other — "  an'  yew  can't  say  so  much  o'  yure  tub,  any 
how.' 

«  Ware's  the  bote  as  gives  a  quarter  to  carry  folks  ?" 
inquired  a  woman  in  rusty  weeds. 

"  This  way,  mum." 

"  Well — there  ain't  no  danger,  you  say" — 

«  None  in  the  world,  mum,"  replied  the  agent — as  he 
passed  the  woman  aboard. 

f'  But  I  hevn't  gut  the  quarter,  yit." 


HOW  THE  YANKEE  MADE  A  QUARTER.     175 

«  Beg  pardin,  mum" — and  the  accommodating  run 
ner  slipped  a  quarter  into  her  open  hand. 

"  It's  a  good  'un,  I  'spose  ?" 

"  Ginewine,  mum" — 

"  Wai — I  hain't  my  spe'tacles  by  me — but  ole  people 
is  50  likely  teu  be  imposed  upun." 

«  Thank'ee,  mum." 

"  An'  you  say  the  boat's  safe  ?" 

"  I  hevn't  the  soughest  dight  un  it,  mum" — and  the 
lady  disappeared  along  the  passage,  towards  the  cabin, 
stooping  very  low  to  avoid  a  crack  on  the  nob,  as  she 
passed  under  the  revolving  paddle-crank  which  was  at 
least  three  feet  above  her  height  any  how ! 

"  Afo'  /go  aboa'd — Mister  Wot's-yer-name" — bawl 
ed  our  Yankee  friend,  appearing  at  the  gangway — "  I'll 
take  that  quarter. — Thank'ee." 

"  Pass  along,  sir."  . 

"  0  yaas,  I'll  pass  along ; — but  thar's  wun  triflin' 
matter,  old  feller,  as  I'd  like  to  hev  reg'larly  understood, 
as  'tween  you  an'  I" — 

"  Wul,  sir." 

"  Ef  I  compr'end  the  contrac'  you  taiks  people  daown 
and  back,  and  gives  'em  a  quarter  each  way!" 

"Very  well" 

"  Yes.  It's  all  very  well,  I  know — but  perhaps  yeu'd 
like  ter  git  this  child  daown  thar,  'n  then  let  him  git  back 
agin  as  may  be  'greeable  to  the  consarn,  hereabouts." 

"You  can  return  at  the  reg'lar  price." 

"  Thar  needn't  be  no  ewasion  o'  the  subjeck,  Mister 
Wot's-name.  You've  paid  me  the  wun  quarter  fer  goin' 
— but  I  duzzent  purceed  no  furder,  /  duzzent,  'nless  I'm 
skewered  agin  impersition !" 


176  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Wat  der  you  mean — you  chowder-head  ?" 

"  Wai,  leave  out  the  big  words,  cap'n — cos  I  reckon 
you  can't  skeer  this  individooal,  much.  Thar's  the 
oppersishun  a  puffin  and  bloin',  yunder  — 'n  I  kin  go 
rite  strait  in  her,  'f  thar's  anny  dispute." 

"  Wull,  it'll  all  be  right,  my  good  man." 

"  Wai — I've  heern  tell  abaout  that — but  I  tell  you  I 
want  the  other  quarter,  afo'  we  start." 

"  Ml  ashore's  again"*  /"  shouted  the  mate,  at  the  side, 
and  a  rush  of  spare  steam  burst  from  the  pipe,  as  the 
surplus  crowd  hurried  ashore. 

" 'od  ha'  massy !  Wot's  bust  ?"  cried  the  Yan 
kee,  as  he  joined  the  deserters. 

"  Here!  you  blasted  fool" — bawled  the  agent. 

"  No  yer  don't,  cap'n — I  hain't  but  the  toun  quarter, 
I  tell  yer — 'n  this  child  isn't  tew  be  tuk  in  by  no  sich 
frog-mouths  as  yew,  no  how" — and  suiting  the  action 
to  the  word,  he  gained  a  foothold  on  the  wharf  just  as 
the  plank  was  drawn  aboard. 

"I'll  remember  you,  my  fine  fellow" — shouted  the 
agent. 

"  Dew,  'f  you  please,  nabur,"  returned  the  Yankee, 
and  raising  his  voice  to  a  higher  pitch,  as  the  steamer 
rounded  away,  he  added — "  And  I  say,  Mister — don't 
fergit  the  other  quarter,  on  the  comin'  back  !" 

G.  P.  B. 


AN  AMATEUR  PRESIDENT. 

AT  the  time  President  Polk  was  making  his  late  tour 
through  the  North,  I  chanced  to  get  on  board  the  steamer 
at  New  York,  which  was  bound  for  New  Haven — the 
route  selected  by  his  Excellency,  on  his  way  to  Boston. 

Upon  our  arrival  at  the  <  City  of  Elms,'  a  very  large 
concourse  of  people  had  assembled  upon  the  wharf 
where  we  were  to  land,  while  upon  the  opposite  side  of 
the  slip,  a  score  of  loafers  from  the  <  unwashed  democra 
cy'  had  got  together  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  a  live 
President.  The  boat  rounded  to  at  the  dock,  and  the 
Committee-men  on  board,  who  had  the  <  lion'  in  charge, 
in  their  anxiety  to  satisfy  the  sovereign  people  that  they 
belonged  to  the  show,  did  not  observe  the  crowd  who 
were  directly  ahead  of  the  boat,  as  she  neared  the  wharf 
— and  mistook  the  'handful  of  democrats'  who  stood 
on  the  left,  for  the  Reception  Committee. 

The  President  was  passed  up  to  the  rail,  where  he 
uncovered,  bowed,  and  waved  his  hat — but  the  bump 
kins  below  took  no  notice  of  the  gestures,  save  to  gape 
at  each  other,  as  if  they  would  like  to  know  what  all 
that  exertion  meant ! 

While  this  was  going  on,  a  brace  of  wags  who  had 
observed  the  mistake,  seized  upon  an  acquaintance,  and 
passed  him  up  to  the  other  side  of  the  boat,  where  the 
real  Committee  were  in  waiting.  He  removed  his  cas 
tor,  politely — bowed,  and  smiled — and  the  Committee 


178  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

in  turn  raised  their  beavers,  bowed,  scraped,  looked  amia 
ble,  and  then  proposed  "  three  cheers  for  the  President!" 

A  shout  went  up  from  the  multitude,  which  startled 
the  Committee  on  board,  who  turned  about  and  at  once 
discovered  that  they  were  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  boat ! 

The  President  was  immediately  conducted  to  the 
opposite  side,  and  the  wags  retired — but  the  thing  was 
up !  The  Reception  Committee  had  re-covered ;  they 
saw  the  c  gentleman  in  black'' — but  it  was  no  go  ;  and 
with  a  glance  at  his  Excellency  and  attendants,  as  much 
as  to  say :  «  You  can't  come  none  of  your  nonsense  over 
us" — they  left  the  party  looking  over  the  side,  and  moved 
towards  the  gang- way  to  embrace  the  earliest  opportunity 
to  exhibit  their  allegiance  to  the  supposed  President, 
when  he  should  reappear  below ! 

Our  friend,  not  dreaming  of  the  extent  to  which  his 
joke  had  been  carried,  stepped  upon  the  dock,  when,  at 
the  signal  by  the  head  Committee-man,  (who  "  knew 
Jimmy  Polk,  jes  like  a  book!")  another  shout  went  up 
for  the  President  of  the  United  States — and  the  officious 
gentlemen,  hats  in  hand,  insisted  upon  conducting  the 
wag  and  his  companions  to  a  carriage  in  waiting  for 
their  illustrious  guest  and  suite ! 

The  innocent  joker  now  mistaking  the  chief  Committee- 
man  for  a  well-dressed  hotel  porter,  coolly  informed  him 
that  he  "  didn't  want  a  hack,  and  would  rather  walk." 
Meantime  the  clumsy  attache  had  managed  to  get  into 
position  again — the  President  appeared — the  joke  ran 
through  the  crowd — a  laugh  followed  it — "  three  times 
three"  for  the  President,  followed  that — His  Excellency 
entered  his  carriage,  and  the  stranger  with  his  friends 
disappeared  amidst  the  roar  of  the  multitude . 

G.  P.  B 


A  MODEL  OYSTER  SHOP. 

WE  have  a  word  to  say  about  oysters ;  and  the  popu 
larity  of  the  subject  would  excuse  us,  if  we  were  twice 
as  tedious  as  we  mean  to  be.  Few  people  dislike  this 
luscious  shell-fish.  Aged  men  are  not  averse  to  oysters, 
and  <  children  cry  for  them'  just  as  they  are  supposed 
to  cry  for  Sherman's  Lozenges.  So  exquisite  is  the  de 
lectation  of  the  palate  in  the  consumption  of  this  fish, 
that  universal  opinion  seems  to  have  settled  as  a  primal 
condition  to  its  enjoyment,  that  oysters  must  be  eaten  in 
secret ;  that  no  noise  and  bustle,  and  garish  worldly 
display,  no  covetous,  or  even  unsympathizing  eyes 
should  intrude  upon  the  oyster-eater.  The  true  oyster- 
eater  is  a  modest  man.  There  are  beings,  destitute  of 
delicacy  or  refinement,  people  who  eat  for  the  mere  pur 
pose  of  satisfying  hunger,  who  eat  oysters  with  as  little 
responsibility  as  they  would  clams  or  potatoes.  Such 
fellows  can  gorge  themselves  at  a  stall  in  the  open  street, 
in  the  presence  of  a  multitude,  and  wonder  why  men  of 
finer  mould  require  deep  alcoves  and  silken  curtains, 
and  soft  carpets,  that  give  back  no  echo  to  the  tread. 
They  would  be  lost  at  Florence's — dismayed,  perplexed. 

It  was  our  chance  lately,  when  we  had  let  our  usual 
dinner-hour  slip  by  unheeded,  to  find  ourselves  in  a  re 
mote  quarter  of  the  city,  with  a  certain  internal  '  remind 
er,'  as  Mr.  Richard  Swiyeller  said,  of  the  wants  of  human 
nature.  Hard  by  rose  a  neat  '  ten-footer,'  with  a  gor 
geous  sign  over  the  door,  whereon  was  emblazoned  thft  t 


180  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

attractive  and  talismanic  word  «  OYSTERS.'  Various 
little  hints  and  professions  were  uttered  by  squares  of 
paper  pasted  in  the  window-panes — such  as  <  stewed,' 
1  roasted,'  <  fresh  from  the  shell,'  &c.  Being  somewhat 
hungry,  we  entered  rapidly,  and  rashly  ordered  an  oys 
ter-stew  upon  the  threshold.  The  proprietor  of  the 
establishment,  a  thinnish  man,  with  no  hair  or  eyebrows, 
and  eyelashes  of  the  colour  of  faded  gingerbread,  prepared 
to  comply  with  the  demand,  while  we  cast  a  hurried 
glance  around  us.  We  saw  that  we  had  been  entrapped. 
The  room  was  bare  and  dismal,  with  a  sanded  floor. 
There  was  no  alcove,  no  curtains,  and  but  one  table,  a 
little  slab,  rather  than  a  table,  covered  with  green  oil 
cloth  ;  and  the  stool  beside  it  was  so  shrivelled  up  and 
meagre,  that  it  appeared  to  threaten  impalement  to  any 
one  who  should  intrust  it  with  his  person.  The  oyster- 
man  relieved  the  tedium  of  preparation,  by  asking  a 
great  many  questions  relative  to  his  operation :  demand 
ing  to  know  whether  he  had  put  in  milk  enough,  if  he 
shouldn't  add  a  leetle  grain  more  butter,  parenthetically 
stating  that  butter  had  '  riz,'  but  generously  adding  that 
the  fact  made  no  sort  of  odds ;  and  all  as  if  we  were 
bound  to  act  as  cook,  and  superintend  our  own  meal. 
At  length  the  oysters  were  placed  before  us,  accompanied 
by  a  dropsical  greenish  bottle,  the  inner  sides  of  which 
were  covered  with  thick  patches  of  tomato  ketchup,  that 
clung  like  leeches  to  the  glass  ;  a  loaferish  tin  pepper 
box,  that  had  been  in  a  good  many  hard  fights,  and  got 
its  head  knocked  out  of  shape,  so  that  standing  with  its 
handle  akimbo,  and  its  perforated  top  flattened  and 
bent,  it  had  the  most  rakish  air  imaginable  ;  and  a  small 
plate  containing  some  fossil  remains  of  a  petrified  cab- 


"He  remarked:  'Oysters  don't  look  numerous  in  a  big  bowl.'"—  Page  181. 


A   MODEL    OYSTER   SHOP.  181 

bage  stump  steeped  in  cider,  intended  to  represent  cold 
slaw.  The  oyster-man,  after  setting  down  the  bowl,  sat 
himself  down  on  a  rickety  chair  hard  by,  and  nodding 
familiarly  at  us,  said  in  a  cheerful  tone  of  encourage 
ment,  "  Now,  then,  go  to  work!"  Observing  us  to 
grope  hopelessly  about  for  an  oyster,  the  half-dozen  that 
were  in  the  mess  being  so  attenuated  as  to  elude  all  the 
scoops  of  the  iron  spoon,  he  remarked :  "  Oysters  don't 
look  numerous  in  a  big  bowl."  Apologizing  for  the 
tenuity  of  one  we  finally  succeeded  in  entrapping,  he 
added,  that  "  cooking  oysters  allers  srunk  'em  up,"  and 
had  the  hardihood  to  assert  that  the  one  in  question  was 
"as  big  as  his  hand  when  it  came  out  of  the  shell." 
We  swallowed  his  impertinence  and  his  oysters,  in  dis 
gust  :  and  never  was  a  ninepence  more  reluctantly  paid, 
or  more  inadequately  deserved,  than  that  we  left  upon 
his  counter.  We  shook  the  sand  of  that  shop  from  our 
feet,  as  we  emerged  into  the  street,  and  we  mentally 
resolved  to  draw  its  likeness,  as  the  antipodes  of  all  it 
ought  to  be,  and  to  show  it  up  as  a  warning  to  all  men 
who  might  be  tempted  to  go  into  the  oyster  business, 
without  taste  for  their  craft,  or  consciences  for  their 
customers. 

F.  A.  D. 


THE  GEEAT  WESTERN  PIE-EATER. 

AWAY  down  in  '  Coony  Hollow,' — you  know  where 
Coony  Hollow  is  — it  is  the  valley  through  which  flows 
the. famous  <  Salt  River,'  so  well  known  among  politicians. 

Well,  away  down  in  Coony  Hollow,  long  time  ago 
—there  lived  as  worthy  a  landlord  as  ever  put  carver 
into  a  mutton  haunch — liberal  to  a  fault  was  he — kind, 
generous,  hospitable  ;  but  he  was  unfortunate  in  having 
thrust  upon  him,  in  an  evil  hour,  a  <  boarder,'  who  had 
well  nigh  devoured  him  of  his  substance. 

He  was  a  good-hearted  man,  was  this  landlord — 
obliging  and  friendly — and  for  the  world,  he  could  not 
personally  offend  any  one !  His  <  boarder'  had  a  tape 
worm,  poor  fellow !  he  couldn't  help  it — but  such  an 
EATER!  Well  might  he  fix  upon  the  West  (where 
provisions  were  plenty)  for  his  abiding-place !  He  was 
known  for  fifty  miles  the  country  round,  as  the  <  great 
pie-eater !' 

We  stopped  (a 'nice  party'  of  us)  at  this  hotel, 
where  we  observed  the  disgusting  voracity  of  this  man, 
and  heard  the  meek  landlord  remark,  "  It's  orful,  gentle 
men,  orful — such  gormandizing!"  We  proposed  to 
our  worthy  host  a  plan  to  rid  him  of  the  monster. 

"  No,  gentlemen,  it  can't  be  done.  Everybody  is 
acquainted  with  him  ;  he  has  «  eaten  out'  the  best  half 
of  the  town  ;  the  rest  know  him.  It's  no  use !" 

"  Leave  that  to  me,"  said  the  most  knowin1  'un  of 

182 


THE  GREAT  WESTERN  PIE- EATER.       183 

the  party  ;  and  it  was  resolved  that  it  should  be  ( tried 
on.'  In  the  event  of  failure  to  start  the  glutton,  we 
were  to  pay  the  expenses ;  if  our  plan  succeeded,  the 
landlord  was  to  foot  the  bill,  and  « stand  treat.' 

It  was  Thanksgiving  Day.  A  sumptuous  dinner  was 
served,  and  the  roast  turkeys  and  accompaniments  were 
1  numerous'  on  the  occasion.  It  was  agreed  that  an 
enormous  pumpkin  pie  should  be  built,  in  a  huge  earth 
en  platter,  and  when  the  monster  called  for  pie,  it  was 
to  be  placed  before  him  with  a  ladle  !  His  custom  was 
to  devour  three  or  four  ordinary  pies,  after  dining,  every 
day,  and  we  believed  this  hint  would  drive  the  animal 
out. 

Seats  for  five  at  table  opposite  the  proposed  victim, 
were  turned  down  for  our  party,  and  everything  passed 
along  just  as  we  would  have  it.  The  pie-eater  gorged 
himself  with  sundry  turkeys  and  fixin's,  and  called  for 
pie.  The  table  was  cleared  for  a  considerable  space  in 
front  of  him,  and  Edward,  the  waiter,  placed  before  him 
the  platter  (two  feet  in  diameter),  filled  with  pumpkin 
and  pastry.  A  large  spoon  was  handed  him — his  eyes 
dilated — his  mouth  watered — his  cheeks  glowed — but  at 
it  he  went,  and  to  the  utter  astonishment  of  the  crowd, 
he  bolted  the  entire  contents,  concluding  by  carefully 
licking  the  spoon ! 

"  Edward  !"  said  he,  as  soon  as  he  could  get  breath, 
"bring  me  another  pie,  Edward!"  and  the  servant 
turned  to  the  side-table,  and  handed  our  friend  an  ordi 
nary  pie. 

"  Oh,  that  ain't  no  manner  o'  use,"  said  the  glutton  ; 
"  bring  me  another  o'  the  big  'wns ."' 

"All  gone,  sir '"  said  Edward  ;  and  as  the  <  boarder* 


184  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

• 

thrust  the  pie  into  his  mouth  with  a  sigh  of  disappoint 
ment,  the  party  left  the  dining-hall ! 

The  bill  was  paid,  and  shortly  afterward  we  were  on 
our  way  down  the  river — our  knoioiri*  friend's  face 
elongated  full  <  a  feet !' 

I  never  see  Thanksgiving  Day,  when  I  do  not  think 
of  that  voracious  PUMPKIN  PIE-EATER  ! 

G.  P.  B. 


"SAWING"  AN  INSPECTOR. 

IN  one  of  our  maritime  ports  of  entry,  a  few  years 
back,  on  the  accession  of  a  new  administration,  a  very 
verdant  youth  from  the  interior  presented  himself  at  the 
Custom  House  in  Boston,  and  was  duly  sworn  and  pos 
sessed  of  his  commission  as  { Inspector  of  the  Customs 
for  the  port  of  Boston,'  and  was  also  duly  impressed  with 
all  the  importance  and  gravity  of  his  new  duties.  As 
he  seemed  a  very  promising  subject,  a  wag  of  a  brother- 
inspector,  who  had  received  an  intimation  that  his  services 
would  shortly  be  dispensed  with  by  the  Government, 
and  who  was  intrusted  with  the  indoctrination  of  the 
more  fortunate  individual,  resolved  to  revive  in  his  be 
half  all  the  <old  saws'  time-honoured  tradition  had 
handed  down,  and  apply  them  to  <  this  modern  instance.' 
He  first  imparted  some  general  instruction,  and  <  put  him 
through'  the  duties  of  attending  to  the  discharge  of  one 
or  two  foreign  vessels. 

At  length  the  awful  period  arrived  when  the  infant 
Inspector,  emancipated  from  his  leading-strings,  was  to 


"  SAWING"  AN  INSPECTOR.  185 

go  alone.  That  the  duties  of  his  berth  might  gradually 
dawn  upon  him,  a  vessel  from  Nova  Scotia,  laden  with 
plaster  (a  free  article),  was  assigned  to  his  charge, 
and  a  « permit'  given  him  to  land  <  100  tons  plaster 
from  the  Bouncing  Sally.'  He  showed  it  to  his  tutor 
with  a  smile. 

"That's  easy  done,"  said  he,  "ain't  it?  Plaster's 
free." 

The  old  rat  shook  his  head  mournfully.  "  Not  so 
easy  as  you  imagine  it.  Do  you  understand  geometry  ?" 

"  Yes — some — I  went  through  it  to  the  academy — 
but  that  was  a  darned  long  while  back,"  said  the  victim. 

"  Fourpence  for  the  oath,"  said  the  Mentor  sternly. 
The  coin  was  instantly  paid,  and  found  its  way  to  the 
pocket  of  the  tormentor.  "  Now,"  continued  he, 
"  you've  got  to  ascertain,  by  actual  measurement,  the 
cubic  contents  of  each  piece  of  plaster  in  that — what 
description  of  a  vessel  is  it  ?" 

«  It's  a  slupe  /" 

"Ah!  a  sloop;  very  good.  You  had  better  go  to 
work  immediately." 

The  victim  immediately  hastened  to  the  pier,  and  the 
crew  commenced  discharging.  A  huge  cube  of  plaster 
was  first  landed  on  the  wharf.  This  looked  promising. 
Our  Euclid  measured  the  sides  and  calculated  the  con 
tents  of  the  cube.  But  while  thus  engaged,  another 
and  another  piece  of  plaster  tumbled  out,  all  of  the  most 
complicated  figures. 

"  Hold  on,  there !"  yelled  the  victim — "I've  got  my 
hands  full  for  tu  days.  Them  eternal  rhomboids  and 
parallelepipeds  are  enough  to  drive  a  human  bein'  ravin' 
mad.  I  know  I  can't  du  it,  by  gravy !  I  never  studied 

M 


186  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

conic  sections,  and  I'm  sure  it's  somewhere  there,  or 
'taint  nowhere.  Hold  on  !"  he  screamed,  as  the  crew 
continued  to  work,  "  or  else't  I'll  report  you  right  away, 
and  have  ye  took  up  and  fined  five  hundred  dollars 
each !  I  kin  do  it,  and  I  will  do  it,  by  gravy !" 

With  this  resolution,  he  was  rushing  away  to  report 
the  ill-fated  slupe,  when  he  encountered  his  tormentor, 
who  offered  to  take  the  job  off  his  hands,  and  get  at  the 
amount  by  general  average  (!)  by  a  process  of  his  own 
which  he  could  not  impart. 

On  another  occasion,  soon  after,  when  in  charge  of 
another  vessel,  the  tormentor  sauntered  down  to  the 
wharf  to  see  how  his  victim  got  along  with  it,  when  he 
observed  that  the  steward  was  a  coloured  man. 

"You've  got  a  nigger  steward,"  observed  he  care 
lessly. 

"  Wai,  I  know  I  hev — what  of  it  ?"  answered  the 
victim,  rather  tartly,  for  he  was  beginning  to  '  feel  his 
oats.' 

"Oh!  nothing — only  you  must  look  out  for  him," 
was  the  reply. 

«  Oh!  he  hain't  got  nothin'.  I've  searched  his  bag 
gage,  and  in  fact  the  whole  vessel.  All's  right — he 
hain't  got  nothin'." 

«  But  his  wool  /"  said  the  tormentor,  in  a  low  hoarse 
whisper. 

"Well — what  of  that?"  asked  the  victim,  terribly 
afraid  of  being  convicted  of  some  remissness  in  the  dis 
charge  of  his  duty. 

"  It  pays  a  duty  of  seven  cents  a  pound." 

it  Wai — I  thought  that  'ere  come  under  the  head  of 
« necessaries  of  life.'  " 


"SAWING"  AN  INSPECTOR.  187 

"  You  are  not  aware  that  these  niggers  drive  a  great 
trade  of  smuggling  their  wool  ashore,  are  you  ?" 

"  No,  I  wasn't,"  said  the  novice,  turning  deadly  pale. 

"Did  you  never  notice,"  continued  the  tormentor, 
calmly,  "that  almost  all  these  foreign  blacks,  a  day  or 
two  after  arriving  in  port,  have  their  heads  tied  up  in 
bandanna  handkerchiefs  ?" 

The  novice  had  noticed  this  fact,  but  had  drawn  no 
inference  important  to  the  revenue  department. 

"  They  watch  a  chance,  when  the  Inspector's  back 
is  turned,  to  whip  up  to  the  barber's  and  have  their  heads 
shaved.  The  bandannas  are  afterwards  used  to  conceal 
the  fraud  upon  the  government.  I  may  be  deceived  in 
this  man — but  he  looks  suspicious ; — he  looks  to  me  like 
a  smuggler,  and  I  advise  you  to  watch  him  very  closely. 
There's  no  way  of  your  getting  at  the  quantity  mathe 
matically,  is  there  ?" 

"  None  as  I  knows  of;  but  I'll  consult  the  books  to 
night." 

"  I  don't  think  you'll  find  it  there,"  said  the  torment 
or,  as  he  sauntered  away. 

From  that  moment  the  steward  was  an  object  of  intense 
anxiety  to  the  unfortunate  novice.  He  never  permitted 
him  out  of  his  sight,  and  whenever  he  went  ashore,  he 
was  sure  to  dog  his  footsteps.  When  he  had  missed 
sight  of  him  for  a  few  minutes,  and  he  happened  to  come 
back  with  his  hat  on,  the  novice  would  assail  him  with — 

"  'Pears  to  me  that's  an  odd  notion  of  yourn,  wearing 
a  hat  in  the  cabin  sech  a  scaldin'  day  as  this.  I  wish 
you  would  take  it  off — it  makes  me  nervous." 

"  Berry  good,  massa — jess  as  you  say;"  and  the  co 
vering  would  be  removed.  All  right. 


188  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

Once,  when  the  steward  was  taking  a  nap  in  his  chair, 
our  Inspector  stealthily  approached  him  and  began  to 
feel  his  head  all  over. 

"  Why,  the  critter's  got  more'n  a  pound ! — 'Tain't 
much  for  the  government  to  lose — but  the  principle's 
everything.  I  should  be  a  perjured  raskil  if  I  didn't 
hold  him  to  account  for  every  ounce  of  it." 

"  Golly,  massa !  what  you  want !"  shouted  the  African, 
jumping  out  of  his  doze  and  his  chair  at  the  same  time. 

"  Nothin' — nothin' — jest  you  go  to  sleep  agin.  I'm 
a  phrenologist — that's  all.  The  critter's  guilty  conscience 
haunts  him  like  a  rattle-snake !"  he  added  to  himself. 

One  day  matters  came  to  a  climax.  The  steward, 
after  passing  his  hands  through  his  wool  several  times, 
said  with  the  greatest  effrontery : — 

"  Well,  Massa  Spectre,  I  bliebe  I  must  leab  you  to 
yourself  for  half  a  hour." 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  de  barber's,  massa." 

"What  for?" 

"  To  hab  my  hair  cut." 

"  No  you  don't,  you  rascal.  That  'ere  wool  airft  en 
tered  yet." 

"  Not  entered  !     Wat  you  mean,  massa ?" 

"  Not  paid  for,  you  limb  of  Satan ! 

"  Paid  for!     Goramity  gib  'um  to  me." 

"  Silence !  you  infatuated  Day  and  Martin !  Set 
right  down  in  that  'ere  chair,  and  I'll  do  your  bar- 
berin'." 

The  nigger  sank  speechless  into  the  captain's  arm 
chair.  In  an  instant  ne  wras  tied  fast,  hand  and  foot, 
and  the  Inspector  seized  a  case  of  razors  from  the  cabin- 
table. 


"  SAWING"    AN    INSPECTOR.  189 

"  Murder!  murder!  you  goin'  to  cut  a  nigga's  troat, 
eh?" 

"  I'll  cut  a  nigger's  head  off,  if  he  don't  keep  still," 
was  the  stern  reply. 

In  five  minutes  the  skull  of  the  unfortunate  African 
was  as  bare  of  wool  as  a  cocoa-nut  denuded  of  its  hairy 
bark.  It  was  even  grubbed  up  by  the  roots,  for  the 
razor  had  been  used  for  opening  oysters  and  paring  po 
tatoes. 

"  Now  take  your  bandanna,  if  you  like,"  said  the 
green  'un. 

Leaving  the  steward  shrieking  with  pain  and  rage,  the 
official  rushed  to  the  custom-house  in  triumph  with  his 
booty.  But  alas !  he  was  received  with  roars  of  deri 
sion.  The  next  day  he  sent  in  his  resignation, — and 
the  department  lost  a  valuable  officer,  whose  only  fault 
was  that  he  knew  too  much. 

F.  A.  D. 


MR.  FAULTY'S  FIRST  AND  LAST  CLUB 
SUPPER. 

MR.  FRANCIS  FAULTY  had  been  <  about'  some,  and 
Mr.  Faulty  was  invited  by  his  { friend'  Mr.  Flash,  to  a 
Club  supper,  one  night. 

At  early  ten  o'clock,  on  the  evening  appointed,  Messrs. 
Flash  and  Faulty  were  formally  ushered  into  the  Club- 
room,  where  were  already  collected  together  some  score 
of  worthies,  whose  talents  and  ambition  were  fully  equal 
to  those  of  Mr.  Flash  and  Mr  Cheatem,  (the  latter  being 
another  <  friend'  of  the  first-named  gentleman.) 

"Ah,  gents" — roared  the  former  as  they  entered— 
"  just  in  time  ;  gentlemen,  allow  me  to  present  my  friend 
Flash,  and  his  friend,  Mr.  Faulty " 

Our  hero  looked  uncommonly  wise,  and  having  made 
a  low  bow,  he  seated  himself  modestly  in  a  remote  cor 
ner  of  the  room,  and  amused  himself  most  unweariedly 
for  the  next  five  minutes,  in  his  endeavours  to  determine 
satisfactorily  whether,  in  such  a  situation  as  this,  his  hat 
should  rest  upon  his  right  or  his  left  knee. 

The  strangers  laughed  outright,  at  length — Frank 
laughed  louder  than  anybody  else,  the  signal  was  given, 
and  the  party  repaired  to  the  supper-room.  As  they 
were  about  to  sit  down,  Mr.  Cheatem  proposed  that 
officers  be  chosen  to  preside  pro  tempore. 

Flash  was  duly  elected  President,  and  Faulty  was 
complimented  with  authority  to  '  do  the  honours'  as 
Vice.  The  company  were  at  length  seated,  and  the 
second  course  disappeared  as  rapidly  as  the  first. 


MR.  FAULTY'S  FIRST  AST*  LAST  CLUB  SUPPER.     191 

"Mr.  Faulty"  —  remarked  the  president — "the 
pleasure  of  a  glass  of  wine  with  you." 

"  Sir,  your  most" — replied  the  vice. 

Frank  thought  it  his  turn  shortly  after,  and  according 
ly  reciprocated  the  compliment. 

"  Mr.  Vice" — said  Cheatem — "  allow  me  the  plea 
sure." 

"  Most  certainly" — replied  Frank — "  my  respects." 

The  champagne  circulated,  and  by  the  time  he  had 
emptied  his  sixth  goblet,  Frank  had  got  to  be  very  vo 
luble,  and  not  very  witty — while  Mr.  Flash  appeared 
vice  versa. 

But  the  wine  went  round,  and  our  hero,  determined 
that  his  neighbours  shouldn't  get  ahead  of  him,  continu 
ed  to  <  see  the  bottom'  of  his  glass — until  it  was  a  mat 
ter  of  considerable  doubt  with  him  whether  there  were 
any  bottom  to  it,  or  whether  there  were  not  two  glasses 
before  him  instead  of  one ! 

"A  sentiment  from  the  vice-president" — shouted 
Mr.  Cheatem. 

"Ay!"  followed  a  dozen  voices — "Mr.  Faulty's 
toast — a  toast  from  Mr.  Faulty." 

"  Fill,  gentlemen,  to  the  brim,  for  the  sentiment  of 
the  vice-president" — said  Flash. 

«  Ay,  a  bumper  for  the  vice-president !"  continued 
Cheatem. 

"  Order,"  said  the  president — and  in  the  midst  of  a 
breathless  silence,  Mr.  Faulty  attempted  to  rise. 

"  I'll  give  you" — said  Frank,  clinging  to  the  table, 
to  maintain  his  equilibrium — "  I'll  give  you — Mr.  Presi 
dent  and  gen'lemen — a  pair  of  sparklin'  black  eyes " 

"  Bravo,  bravo !"  shouted  the  company. 


192  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

"  Order!"  cried  the  president. 

" ma}  they — may  they  never;" nere  Frank 

took  his  seat  again,  amidst  the  deafening  plaudits  of  the 
whole  table,  and  the  vice-president's  toast,  <  a  pair  of 
sparkling  black  eyes — may  they  never' — was  drunk  with 
most  enthusiastic  approbation ! 

"  Three  cheers  for  the  vice-president's  toast !"  shout 
ed  Cheatem. 

"Hoora!  Hoorah!  Hoo-r-aw!"  and  then  followed  a 
stamping,  and  shouting,  and  clapping,  which  might  have 
awakened  the  neighbourhood  for  half-a-mile  round. 

The  president  begged  to  be  excused  a  moment. 

If  Frank  '  saw  double'  before  he  now  began  to  see 
triple,  and  what  with  his  attempts  at  gratuitous  singing 
and  speechifying,  he  managed  to  make  himself  appear 
exceedingly  ridiculous. 

In  the  temporary  absence  of  the  president,  Mr.  Cheat- 
em  proposed  that  the  then  existing  <  vice'  be  removed, 
and  that  some  other  be  chosen  to  represent  that 
office,  as,  from  some  cause  or  other,  he  was  very  evi 
dently  incapacitated  for  the  duties.  A  third  person, 
who  had  taken  a  dislike  to  Frank  at  the  outset,  requested 
Mr.  Cheatem  to  waive  his  motion  so  far  as  to  admit  an 
amendment.  This  worthy  proposed,  instead  of  remov 
ing  the  present  incumbent,  to  act  upon  the  feasibility 
of  laying  him  under  the  table — to  which  Mr.  Cheatem 
kindly  consented,  and  the  motion  was  immediately  sup 
ported  !  Frank  rose  writh 

<«•  Gen'lmen.      In  the   absence  of 'ic — worthy 

friend,  Mr.  Flash — being  president — act  upon  'ic  ques 
tion — momentous — his  advice 'ic." 

"  Question,  question!"  roared  the  company. 


MR.  FAULTY'S  FIRST  AND  LAST  CLUB  SUPPER.     193 

"  Your  vice-president,  gen'lemen  —  ic  —  hie  —  feels  the 
honour  —  conferring  on  him.  Un'stan's  the  du  —  'ic  — 
duties  of  his  office  —  dictation  no  part  o'  the  -  • 


"  Question,  question,  question!" 

"  -  's  very  well,  gen'lemen.  If  it  be  your  'ic 
minds  —  s'moved  gen'lemen  —  and  the  prop-ic-er-sition 
is  s'ported,  that  your  respectable  vice-president  belaid  — 
'ic  —  under  the  table  —  for  what  reason  —  'od  only  knows, 
'ic.  But  'f  that  be  your  mind  —  s'gentlemen,  you'll 
please  to  be  so  kind  as  to  manifest  it,  by  saying  ay  — 
'fu  please,  'ic." 

"  Ay,  ay!"  shouted  the  company. 

"  'S  unanimous!"  said  Frank;  and  under  the  table 
he  went,  muttering  as  he  laid  himself  upon  the  floor, 
"  this  i  'swat  I  call  —  'ic  —  cum-fer-ta-ble  !" 

Flash  returned  to  his  post,  after  ordering  a  coach,  a 
new  <  vice'  was  chosen,  and  the  company  continued  to 
revel  on  in  the  most  uproarious  state  possible  for  the  next 
hour. 

Meantime,  the  brain  of  Faulty  whirled  round  and 
round,  while  a  mingled  chaos  of  black  eyes,  lemon 
punch  and  broken  glasses  were  revolving  through  his 
mind.  At  length  he  fancied  himself  passing  round 
Point  Judith  in  a  thunder-storm  —  after  which,  he  was 
much  better,  and  fell  asleep. 

The  party  having  drunk  all  the  wine  the  landlord 
thought  fit  to  furnish  them  with,  and  having  broken  up 
all  the  glasses  upon  the  tables  —  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning  broke  up  themselves;  and  the  few  who 
chanced  to  keep  out  of  the  watch-house,  retired  to  their 
respective  homes. 


194  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

Among  the  latter  were  our  hero  and  his  two  compan 
ions  ;  who,  having  gathered  Frank  up  from  beneath  the 
table,  placed  him  with  themselves  in  a  carriage,  and 
drove  at  once  to  their  lodgings. 

G.  P.  B. 


HOW  HE  SOLD  'EM. 

A  "WISE  SAW"  AND  "MODERN  INSTANCE." 

WITH    AN    EXCELLENT   MORAL. 

THE  events  we  are  about  to  narrate,  transpired  several 
years  since,  in  a  great  commercial  city,  that  boasted  of  a 
noble  custom  house.  A  great  political  revolution  had 
just  been  consummated,  and  the  guillotine  was  busy  at 
the  public  offices  carrying  out  the  noble  republican  prin 
ciple  of '  rotation  in  office,'  to  the  infinite  satisfaction  of 
the  new  dynasty  and  the  infinite  dissatisfaction  of  its 
opponents.  Of  course,  it  was  impossible  to  please 
everybody.  As  fast  as  a  vacancy  was  created  it  was 
filled,  just  as  on  a  hard-fought  battle-field  the  void 
caused  by  the  fall  of  a  soldier  is  instantly  filled  up  by  a 
comrade,  and  the  column  moves  on  the  same  as  ever. 
There  were,  however,  considerably  more  than  ninety- 
nine  in  a  hundred  of  disappointed  office-seekers.  Among 
the  fortunate  was  a  very  clever  individual  of  Scotch  ex 
traction,  whom  we  shall  call  McGregor,  as  a  nom  de 
guerre,  who,  from  his  immense  personal  popularity, 
secured,  on  the  score  of  his  appointment,  a  host  of  gra- 


HOW   HE   SOLD    JEM.  195 

tulations  from  his  troops  of  friends.  But  the  envy  that 
pursues  all  merit  did  not  spare  poor  Mac.  Among  his 
self-styled  friends  there  was  scarcely  one  who  did  not 
wish  him  out  of  the  way  for  the  sake  of  having  a  Vacancy 
created.  They  used  to  watch  his  health  with  tireless 
solicitude,  and  he  could  not  sneeze  or  cough  without 
giving  rise  to  a  thousand  hopes.  He  was  incessantly 
surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  these  <  friends,'  and  he  racked 
his  brains  in  his  endeavour  to  find  some  method  of  get 
ting  rid  of  them. 

At  length  one  day  he  came  upon  a  party  of  them 
when  he  was  looking  much  more  poorly  than  usual. 

"  Hullo,  Mac !  how  are  you  ?" 

"Not  very  well,  thank  you,"  coughed  Mac  in  a 
piteous  key.  "  I  never  felt  so  slim  in  all  my  life." 

"Poor  fellow!"  chorussed  the  entire  circle — "  Hadn't 
ought  to  be  out."  "  Go  to  bed."  "  Send  for  a  ho- 
mceopathist."  "No — no — try  the  water  cure" — "  sul 
phur  and  molasses!"  "steam,"  "calomel,"  — "glass 
of  brandy!"  "mint  julep." 

Mac  smiled — a  wan — sad  smile,  and  shook  his  head. 
He  beckoned  a  friend — a  particular  friend,  his  <  halved 
heart,'  out  of  the  group,  and  walked  away  with  him. 

"  Topps,"  said  he,  "  I'm  afraid  I'm  going  to  make  a 
die  of  it.  I'm  going  to  '  create  a  vacancy.'  " 

"  Don't  say  so — you  shock  me  beyond  expression!" 

"  It's  a  melancholy  fact,"  said  Mac.  "  Topps — I've 
made  my  will — it  isn't  a  very  long  one — for  I've  had  an 
expensive  family.  I  wish  I  could  provide  for  them. 
Now,  Topps — you  stand  the  best  chance  of  getting  my 
place — you  might  do  something  for  me?* 

"  Anything  in  the  world,  dear  Mac." 


196  STRAY    SUBJECTS. 

"  Well — then — step  up  with  me  to  the  Life  Insurance 
office — and  advance  me  the  money  to  pay  for  a  policy 
on  five  thousand  dollars  for  five  years.  I'll  leave  a  letter 
recommending  you  to  the  head  of  our  department — 
you'll  be  sure  to  get  the  place,  Topps." 
.  Topps  gave  in  to  the  proposal,  and  Mac  walked  briskly 
into  the  Insurance  office.  Even  Topps  was  surprised  at 
the  sudden  change  in  his  appearance.  He  didn't  look 
ill  at  all. 

"  What  an  actor  you  are,  Mac !"  said  he. 

The  insurance  effected,  Mac  felt  easier,  went  home, 
and  took  to  his  bed.  There  were  a  thousand  inquiries 
made  daily  at  his  house,  and  the  intelligence  received 
was  of  the  most  encouraging  character  to  the  hopes  of 
the  office-seekers.  Topps  lived  in  Elysium.  One  night, 
learning  that  Mac  was  near  his  end,  he  benevolently 
offered  to  watch  with  him.  It  would  have  been  an 
interesting  sight  to  have  observed  the  movements  of  that 
Topps  in  the  sick  chamber  when  he  was  left  alone  with 
the  sufferer — how  comfortably  he  established  himself  in 
the  easy  chair — how  luxuriously  he  stretched  his  legs 
upon  a  lounge — how  exquisitely  voluptuous,  in  short, 
was  his  whole  appearance  and  arrangements. 

"  Topps,"  said  the  sick  man  in  an  expiring  voice, 
"Heaven  will  reward  you  for  your  kindness  to  me. 
When  I'm  gone " 

"  Don't  talk  of  it,  Mac." 

«  When  I'm  gone — see  that  they  bury  me  decently. 
The  Odd  Fellows  will  do  their  part — but  I  want  the 
military  out — my  old  corps — the  Shot-Gun  Invincibles 
— speak  to  the  commander — tell  him — I  want — a  volley 
over  the  grave." 


HOW   HE   SOLD    *EM.  197 

"It  shall  be  done,  dear  Mac.  But  are  you  really 
going?" 

"  I'm  going,"  said  Mac,  solemnly. 

«  Shan't  I  call  your  wife  ?" 

"No  —  no  —  poor  woman  —  she  is  worn  out  with 
watching — it  would  kill  her.  I  may  linger  through  the 
night — but  these  are  perhaps  the  last  words  I  shall  ever 
speak." 

Topps  looked  at  the  sufferer — he  held  a  candle  to  his 
lips — the  flame  but  slightly  wavered. 

"He's  a  goner!"  he  exclaimed  exultingly,  as  he 
threw  himself  into  the  arm-chair  to  muse  upon  his  glo 
rious  prospects. 

"  Topps!"  squealed  the  invalid  with  difficulty — "  it's 
twelve  o'clock — the — the  soothing  mixture." 

"It's  no  go,  old  fellow,"  said  Topps  unfeelingly. 
"  Confound  me !  if  I  stir  from  this  chair  this  night,  any 
how.  If  you  don't  like  it — you  may  lump  it." 

A  heavy  sigh  was  the  only  answer.  Topps  fell  asleep 
and  slept  like  a  dozen  of  his  namesakes.  In  the  morn 
ing,  the  sick  man  was  still  alive,  but  the  family  physician 
had  no  hopes  of  him.  Topps  took  leave,  to  prepare  his 
recommendations  and  papers,  having  first  secured  the 
promised  letter  of  his  unfortunate  friend,  and  made  suie 
of  obtaining  the  office  to  be  vacated. 

The  next  day  Topps  and  the  other  aspirants  were  as 
sembled  in  high  conclave,  to  compare  notes,  and  specu 
late  on  their  chances.  When  Topps  produced  the 
dying  recommendation  of  his  friend,  a  roar  of  dissatis 
faction  rose  among  the  office-seekers.  It  was  pro 
nounced  an  underhanded  affair,  and  a  young  man  in 
mixed  pantaloons  and  mustaches  said : 


198  STRAY   SUBJECTS. 

«  No  gentleman  would  be  guilty  of  such  a  piece  of 
meanness." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  apply  that  remark  to  me,  sir  ?"  in 
quired  Topps. 

"There  is  no  other  individual  in  this  room  to  whom  it 
does  apply,"  replied  the  owner  of  the  mustache.  "  And 
I  most  distinctly  and  emphatically  assert,  that  you, 
Bernard  Topps,  are  no  gentleman." 

A  blow  from  Topps  was  the  rejoinder.  Mustache 
hit  back.  •'  The  betting  was  even.  Spectators  took  sides ; 
and  a  general  row  was  in  progress,  when  the  door  opened 
— and  in  walked  Mac ! 

"  Good  morning,  gentlemen." 

"Mac  alive  and  out!"  exclaimed  a  dozen  voices. 

" Pre-cise-ly,"  was  the  answer.  "My  foot  is  on  my 
native  heath,  and  my  name  is  Macgregor !  Gentlemen, 
for  your  kind  solicitude  about  my  health,  I  thank  you. 
Topps !  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  kick  you — but  for 
that  insurance  policy.  Boy !  if  I  should  die  to-morrow, 
my  family  would  thank  you  for  being  independent." 

The  united  faces  of  the  company  would  have  reached 
a  mile.  They  bolted — mizzled,  flew,  vamosed.  All 
except  Topps  —  he  crawled  away — literally  crawled; 
bent  nearly  double,  with  his  coat  tail  hanging  down 
between  his  legs,  like  the  caudal  appendage  of  a  casti 
gated  spaniel.  We  never  could  find  out  what  be 
came  of  him,  and  he  is  supposed  to  have  been  entirely 
<  used  up.' 

As  for  McGregor,  he  flourished  finely  for  three  or 
four  years,  but  at  the  expiration  of  that  time,  was  sud 
denly  taken  ill  of  a  typhus  fever  and  died — before  his 
policy  of  insurance  had  expired,  however,  so  that  his 


HOW    HE    SOLD    JEM.  199 

family  was  left  comfortably  off.  He  had  a  grand  fune 
ral.  The  various  societies  of  which  he  was  a  member, 
and  who  sincerely  mourned  the  loss  of  an  excellent  man, 
were  out  on  the  melancholy  occasion,  with  full  ranks, 
while  the  <  Shot- Gun  Invincibles'  numbered  eighty-seven 
pieces.  Neither  Topps  nor  his  cronies  were  among 
the  mourners. 

F.  A.D. 


THE  END. 


c> 


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